


Faded Souls [Fifty Fades of Solas]

by Eliante



Series: Fifty Fades of Solas [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dragon Age Lore, Drama, Elvhen Lore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fade, Fade Tongue, Intimacy, Intrigue, Magic, Orlais (Dragon Age), Political Intrigue, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Smut, Solavellan Hell, Teasing, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), dom!solas, love sex and dreams that's the fic, maybe this will hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25886323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliante/pseuds/Eliante
Summary: To bind their political ties with Orlais at the Winter Palace, the Inquisition is asked to display proper Orlesian manners. Empress Celene has a last request to conclude their alliance that Inquisitor Lavellan finds hard to decline - even though it twists her beliefs in more than one way. The Game begins to unfold.In comes Romeo (Solas) - whose own personal aims are yet to be seen - for another twist of Lavellan's values.As he brings her to the Fade, her perception changes.Time frame: As ending scene for Wicked Eyes and Wicked hearts, and from there onwards.No Trespasser spoilers(haven't even played it yet).The plot plays out like an additional main mission of the game before the final with Corypheus. Only the last chapter contains DAI ending spoilers.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan & Josephine Montilyet, Female Lavellan/Solas
Series: Fifty Fades of Solas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927960
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. The Orlesian contact

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally just planned as one chapter that turned into two, that then turned into _pure madness_.  
> Also if you have tips on better formating/use of paragraphs, it would be very appreciated. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy it!

“Inquisitor Lavellan, you must do me the favour and try this dress I have chosen for you. I could not bear to see you clothed as you are, like everyone else, as our dearest guest and ally here.”  
“Your Majesty, it is of no need. I do not wish to call upon me or you any more unwanted attention. It has, after all, already been a resourceful and exciting evening, would you not agree?” The inquisitor tried to turn the attention away from herself as the two women were standing on the balcony talking. The assassination had been averted and the ball had yet another climax to reach - one that Celene wanted as a show for her final triumph and lasting imperial efforts.  
“Of course, Inquisitor, of course - but there is excitement of another kind that blows the former out of proportion. One that captures the heart in a pleasant way. Would you not do me this favour? I may ask for this last one, may I not?”  
“My dearest Empress, I must--” The inquisitor insisted but was cut off by the gentle dismissive gesture of the Empress’s hand.  
“See it as an act of closing our union.” And as her hand lowered from the wave, she softly reached for Inquisitor Lavellan’s fingers, the younger woman feeling the warmth even through the Empress’s gloves. “Come, come. It is sealed, we must let you have just one dance in a proper dress.” With the hand pulling her gently towards private quarters, the Empress continued, in a moderate excitement in her Orlesian accent: “It is perfect for you, believe me; you will not regret it.”

Surrounded by two elven servants, Lavellan with her likewise pointy ears felt misplaced in her position in the dressing room. She stood in the middle of an elevation, as instructed by the Empress, who was again waving her hands, this time at the servants.  
“Not this one, the light blue one. How would she fit into this huge dress?” Almost letting out a sound of digust, but holding back, Celene merely breathed heavily and then stepped aside once one of the female servants had brought the desired gown.  
Lavellan was visibly struck in her movements as with both arms carried by the servant - as if carrying an actual woman - the gown was presented to her. It was long, white and blue intermingling in a composition that reminded one of decadent times. A tight waist, white sleeves with frills at the seam, a medium-low cut at the bust for a voluptuous cleavage. The cut was just like the Empress’s dress, abruptly widening at the hip with a skirt that called for additional care and space while walking.  
Almost white as a wedding dress in colour but with a touch of light blue, with the blue twirls and embroidery of the finest kind along the waist and the outer parts of the skirt, it gave quite the opposite impression from the dark blue colour of Celene’s dress. This one had a sweetness in it, yet the blue also had a serene and independent touch.  
As they clothed her in it, the Empress also let them adjust it at the back to fit her, a servant leaning over at Lavellan’s back to fixate the hooks. Along with it, a white pair of lace-trimmed gloves were given to her and she slipped into them without struggle.  
Still speechless and unable to move from her position, Lavellan merely stood looking at the folded out enormous mirror in front of her, gaze shifting between the three parts that all showed slightly different angles of her.

“You see, it was only worn once by me in my younger days. I grew out of it so quickly but I could not give it away.” the Empress explained as she stepped closer to her from behind, looking at her through one of the mirrors.  
“It is... too beautiful.” The brunette could not grasp any thought, being overwhelmed by her own image. She had seen and done many things, but wearing a ballroom gown which only the noblest of the noble could afford, was not among them.  
The laces that reached from her bosom to the waist were now tied to beautiful ribbons by the other servant that approached. Finally both servants stepped away, and Lavellan looked at herself in a new light. Her lips parted, and her hands reached to cover her mouth as she gasped, then immediately reached to cover her whole face in embarrassment.  
“Your Majesty... I cannot...” She was shaking her head in shock. Everything had been like a dream, but this was the final scene before she would wake up. She took her time to speak, gathered the courage to speak in a voice that was firm enough to raise her concerns. “Your Majesty, you must understand. This is not what I stand for. I cannot betray my people like that.”  
Celene looked at the inquisitor carefully, waited until her gaze was met by her finally. The mask was hiding some of her features but it could be seen that she was facing the inquisitor with a serious expression. At once, she laughed all of a sudden, a hand covering the mouth in a typical upper class way, not allowing to show all of her true self.  
“Inquisitor, please. It is merely a ball, do not be alarmed. No one behind the closed curtains of the Orlesian court will ever see or mention it. But perhaps you would feel more at ease wearing one of my masks then? I will call for one immediately.”  
The mask was called for with an array of hand gestures and the servant who has brought the dress before now showed the masks with both hands, bowing slightly to Lavallan.  
“No, I must really... no, I--”  
“What is it, Lavellan? Could you not accept a gift from our dear Empress? Set aside your pride for once. You do not act as humbly as you might think.” Briala intervened who now stood by the door, having heard how Celene had retired to the private chambers.  
“Well said, Briala. As always you find the words I cannot.” Celene concluded and as Briala approached behind her, they now both stood and watched the inquisitor through the looking glass.  
“Have you not forgotten, that after all that Blight and madness, you are still a woman?” Briala now taunted, tilting her head slightly as she waited for an answer.  
“No... no, I have not forgotten. But--”  
“Enough of this, let us proceed to the dance. We have been excused for too long.” Celene concluded and turned, being the first to walk towards the door. Briala and Lavellan stood watching one another; Lavellan was partly convinced, but internally still discouraged. Briala’s eyes waited for an honest answer, but they were also longing for final acceptance and resolution.  
“I-- I will enjoy this, your Majesty. I thank you humbly for letting me take part as a dearly held ally, and may this be the start of better times for all of us.” Her eyes were lowered while internally she struggled not to mention the other elves and she hoped that one day all of them were allowed to wear decadent gowns like these. It was the only way she could moralize the indecency of her act. In the blink of an eye, and as she left the dressing room with the Empress and Briala, her doubts were pushed away and she was ready to pull off the act. She was ready to be what she was meant to be right now - if only for this night, if only as the conclusion of a wonderful long and soon to be faded dream.

But her dream had just begun. Her face covered by a mask that was similar to that of the Empress, she was guided into the ball room and there met by all the attendees - and her fellow associates. Josephine took delight in seeing the inquisitor in a dress, immediately recognizing her and smiling in a reassuring way. A gentle nod of her head acknowledged Lavellan’s presence further. As the elven inquisitor’s eyes continued to strive through the far end of the room, Leliana acknowledged her with a nod in a similar manner, and she replied to it with the hint of a smile. Finally Cullen, with a glass in his hand, kept looking at her, almost staring and taking a sip from his glass as he tried to make out who it was he was facing at the entrance. At last, his eyes widened slightly as he realized it was the inquisitor and he choked and coughed heavily on his drink in astonishment, muffling it with a hand held in front of his mouth - as consequence having half of his conversation partners suddenly all over him and asking him whether he was alright. He nodded as he coughed a few more times, still shocked, and finally looked away from the inquisitor, who now smiled sheepishly thanks to that incident. Maybe it all was not so bad, maybe they deserved to have some fun after all.

“I have just the partner for you, Inquisitor, you will be delighted!” the Empress began, her hands slightly raised for show, as it was the Empress’s way. Just as the three women were about to take the steps down to the dancing ground and find a suiting dance partner for the elven ally, a soft-spoken yet discerning voice made them stop in their movements.  
“Your Majesty.” It was Solas who almost unnoticeably had approached them from the side. “Would you kindly let me steal the Lady Inquisitor for a dance?”  
“Oh” A surprised sound left the Empress as all three of them had turned to face him and hear his proposal. Lavellan’s features softened immediately, her eyes hidden well, but the corners of her mouth formed the hint of a smile. She felt honoured, with the spark of that joy that she had long forgotten existed. And Solas smiled back as he had raised from his polite bow towards the Empress, his hand still held at his heart for another moment.  
“The apostate mage in service of the Inquisition. What a pleasure! I take it you will bring her back to me safely, yes?” The Empress waited for the pledge of the stranger that seemed oddly well-mannered.  
“I assure that my hands will touch her as carefully as a delicate glass vial, so that she may be returned unharmed and in the best spirits to you, your Majesty.”  
Stretching out a hand as he yet again bowed a little, he was now turned towards his partner waiting for her to step forward. The inquisitor in turn, turned her gaze towards the Empress, who had watched the show of mannerism without batting an eyelash.  
“Very well. Do not take her from me for too long.”  
With the permission and a hinted nod towards Lavellan given, the inquisitor approached in a relieved manner and reached the outstretched hand with hers, a jolt of pleasure running through her whole body as their fingers touched. Each time it was an intense feeling that connected the two of them, that only grew stronger the longer time they had spent apart. Solas was the master of many arts, and Lavellan knew very well that among them was the art of love and seduction of the mind.

The elven mage guided her gracefully towards the ballroom floor by her hand and let her step in front of him as they had reached it - only to pull her into his arms with a swift and sudden motion. The inquisitor could hardly hold back a gasp, yet each touch and each movement was filled with magic. One hand set on her waist and the other still holding her hand, Solas began leading her into the dance, quickly catching up with the other dancers. Lavellan lifted her gaze slightly while her partner held his head high but lowered his eyes to her in an almost alluring way. She felt that she would blush at this act, caught in the sudden mix of feelings, yet her cheeks remained pale beneath the mask. How wonderfully convenient this mask now was - Lavellan felt that she could let out some of this vulnerable side of hers and yet no one would see.

“I cannot imagine what the Empress is trying to do.” Solas commented quietly, his lips barely parting as he was talking. Lavellan looked at him cluelessly as he continued. “Did she maybe want to see who your heart belonged to? Who would step up their game and show up to claim you?”  
Lavellan chuckled, feeling at peace in his grasp. It felt so natural and right to be held by him that it made her feel like they were always meant to meet.  
“Would you be so appalled by the game the Empress is playing?”  
Solas looked a bit surprised at the smugly smiling Lavellan.  
“Not at all. It is just not like her - one would rather think of someone like Briala setting this up. It fits her narrative quite well, don’t you think?”  
They turned in a smooth manner, danced swiftly along all the other dancing couples, Solas leading them with such great skill that the inquisitor was almost melting in his arms. She had never felt this level of trust with anyone, and her heart ached a little - merely at the way she was touched and cared for so kindly.  
“I cannot... I do not want to imagine it.”  
Solas’ features softened as he heard the words parting her lips so gently. His hand shifted in its place on her waist, as if to test the waters, and indeed he could feel her body tingling at the touch.  
“You are... aroused, aren’t you?” he whispered as he leaned in and his lips brushed the barely masked side of her face briefly, almost as if by accident. Lavellan blushed deeply at the accusation, her lips burning red on her pale face. She could not deny it. The mage chuckled and led them towards the final twists and turns of the song the band was playing, the loud and final act of the climax releasing them, each dance couple now connected by their hands, standing next to each other and facing the audience, bowing to conclude the song.  
Lavellan turned towards Solas, torn inside for her own feelings, yet enjoying all of that very torn apart self. “I will see you, Solas.”  
The elven mage bowed towards her, the back of Lavellan’s hand raised to his lips to part with a gentle kiss and a stern tone in his voice.  
“I will find you, Lavellan.”


	2. Desperate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mage shows his skills in the art of seduction and game. A promise is made. Lavellan gives in to her feelings and shows her soft side which then is shamelessly taken over (more or less explicit).

“Solas... !” The inquisitor was panting as she hurried after him and her now raspy yet still womanly voice echoed through the empty halls. He was walking fast, yet not running and she had trouble keeping up the pace with the weight and implications of her dress. He stopped in his movements as her voice reached him, yet he did not turn around. Finally catching up, the inquisitor was still panting, but managed to stabilize her breath.  
“... I would not have taken you for the jealous type.” she commented teasingly, trying her luck at loosening up the tension. She had danced with all the partners Celene had recommended to her - and even Cullen, who had been reluctant, had felt obliged to a dance to not endanger the political arrangement with the Empress. When she finally was off duty, the elven mage had been nowhere to be found. She kept looking for him in the ballroom, at the vestibule and finally she had caught a glimpse of him in the empty halls in the back, where they now stood.

Solas did not answer, but looked over his shoulder unwillingly. A moment passed, then he started walking away from her again.  
“Wait!” the inquisitor immediately pleaded with desperation in her voice. He once again stopped in his movements with the same turn of his head and look over his shoulder repeating itself. There was almost no one in this dark hallway now, only far behind them one could make out some of the royal guests.  
“Must you not join the Empress for dinner, Inquisitor?” the mage inquired in a brusque yet objective tone. The Dalish woman immediately felt a sympathetic sentiment creeping up in her heart and she approached him with soft steps. Something must have hurt him.  
“Solas... what is it? I did not mean to insult you in any way.” She stopped when she was an arm’s length away from him, eventually having cornered him at the end of this hallway. The moon was shining onto their festive clothing peacefully, casting shadows of them onto the glazed tiles.  
“You did not insult me, Inquisitor. I simply do not belong in this world. You must go without me.”  
“But was it not you who said you enjoy the air of this place? Of the royal members mingling in intrigue and indecency?”  
“That was... something else.” The mage tilted his head slightly as in his thoughts he remembered their first private talk at the Winter Palace, halfway turning towards Lavellan now, looking at her with guilty eyes.  
It crushed her heart to look at him - the mere feeling that was invoked in her by the look on his face was enough to destroy her every hope. She lowered her gaze slightly, then her eyes wandered off as she did not know where to look. Facing the window, she tried to retain her composure. Frowning, her face showed signs of her not understanding what was going on, yet wanting to clear it up.  
“I barely know you, yet... I feel I know you better than I can ever know anyone on this earth, or beyond it.” She lost her courage for a moment, gaze lowered until she could look up at him again. Her gloved hands were now coming together in front of her, index finger and thumb nervously pulling at the tip of the other hand’s gloved thumb, pulling the fabric away slightly in a repeating manner. As pathetic as it looked, as vulnerable as she was, it gave her peace. And in front of Solas, it felt right to emotionally undress - it felt right to be who she was deeply buried beneath her role as Inquisitor and righter of wrongs. The elven mage slowly turned around a bit further as he heard her words and saw her vulnerable side cut open.  
“Not once... not once in my life have I dared to dream to find someone like you.” Her eyes became crystal clear, a veil of tears covering them - a strong veil that was not allowed to break. “I had hoped for someone like you, of course, but I had not imagined anyone this beautifully emotional, passionate, well-read and well-spoken. It is like I can see your stories through your eyes, and feel your pain in my myself.” She shook her head slightly in disbelief. “No, you surpass all my fantasies.” She chuckled, and it covered up the emotionality of her voice. The mage watched her quietly with great attention. Every movement of her eyes, every almost invisible tremble of her lips was taken in by him.  
“You tug on my heart strings like no one would ever be able to. My soul leaps with joy at the mere thought of you. When I touch you, I am already lost in the fade. I am forever in the very moment you touched my heart and locked me into yours. I am lost for all eternity because I have met you.”  
Solas shook his head slowly now.  
“Please do not say this, Lavellan. It is not true. You are not lost.”  
“You want to say you are not guilty?” she asked with a sad and barely visible smile, her eyes looking up at him to question.  
He fully turned towards her, his hands now reaching for her fidgeting hands to calm them for a moment, then for her arms, gently running his fingers up to her shoulders and her exposed neck, yet pausing for a moment, not pulling her in for comfort, and leaving her at the verge of tears.  
“I do not deserve you.” he answered, and with one hand cupped her face by the area between face and neck, looking at her and pulling her in to look at him without her being able to turn her face. Lavellan’s heart was beating violently against her chest at being held in place like that. They stood there looking at each other in such an intimate way that even the Empress’s mask had lost its effect. With a swift motion, Solas released her from this grasp but immediately grabbed her wrist to pull her into the room nearby.

“Solas, what are we--” the woman asked but paused as she was pushed against a window sill with the mage pressing himself against her. With the casual motion of his hand he sealed the door they entered through magically, so that they were alone in the study. Again Solas’ hands reached for his lover’s face, holding her in a position in which she was unable to not look at him. Her eyes were fixated on him as he pulled her towards himself and captured her lips, parted his own immediately to teasingly grasp her lower lip between his. Lavellan’s hands found their way blindly to his chest, fingers grasping the fabric greedily as he sensually kissed her. She felt a jolt of pleasure at his every move, his body so close to her was mere bliss. And he kissed her as if he wanted every inch of her soul, as if he desired her like nothing else and had held back this act for far too long.  
He let go off her lips, hands swiftly loosening the hooks of her dress and pulling it down her shoulders, exposing them to the moonlight that was shining in through the windows. He sank into the space between her shoulder and neck, his lips ghosting over her collar bone, eyes closed as one hand now impatiently made its way violently through all the layers of the skirt from below. Only once he had found a way beneath and felt her knee below his fingers he slowed down, a gentle hand brushing up the side of her thigh longingly.  
“Solas...” she sighed, her legs wrapping around his back as he had exposed her like this, one of her hands running from the chest to his upper back, over to his shoulders and neck and finally to the back of his head.  
She turned her head to the side as he ran his hand to her behind, squeezing it with both hands and kissing the exposed neck. The inquisitor herself was so lost in the sensation that she again felt ashamed catching herself in the decadent scene, turning her gaze so far to the side against the window that the push against it made her mask fall off in the act. Pulling off her undergarment, the mage’s hand was about to touch her completely exposed, but was stopped by her very hand.

Solas opened his eyes and leaned back slightly from her neck to look at her, wondering what it was.  
“You... can’t do this.”  
“Why not?” he asked chuckling, enjoying the elven inquisitor’s reluctant acting a little too much. But her eyes were now fully visible, just like her face, and showed how serious she was about her words.  
“If you do this, you will have to promise me that you will not leave me.”  
The elven mage stopped for a moment, and looked at her, trying to understand the commitment. They exchanged gazes for a few moments, until he again kissed her collar bone gently.  
“I will not leave you. I promise.”  
Lavellan smiled in a sad way again.  
“You liar.”  
“Ellana.” Solas insisted. “I will never leave you.”  
She was still sad about it, but something in Solas’ eyes comforted her as he again shifted in his position and looked at her with sincerity, then caught her lips in a kiss. His hand meanwhile found its way to where it was forbidden to go just until now and two fingers gently touched her sensitive spot, all swollen from her excitement. She blushed slightly as she was touched like that, having long delicate fingers stroking her gently.  
“Oh, the indecency...” she sighed quietly, eyes closing.  
“You are the only indecent thing here, Inquisitor.” he replied, continuing to let his fingers make out the shape of her beneath that dress. Teasing her continuously, he finally settled a finger at her entry and let it slide inside of her slowly while watching her reaction.  
“Oh Solas...” she sighed, again turning her head to the side at the sensation.  
“What a beautiful woman you are, Lavellan... so tight that I simply want to rip you apart.”  
As he said those words, he noticed her tightening around his finger slightly, yet at the same time becoming more slippery, so that he was able to start sliding another finger inside her carefully and slowly, widening her through the resistance he was encountering. It took a few moments until she fully let him in and he gave her time - always watching her reaction - until he started moving inside her.  
“No... what are you doing to me...” She squirmed at the movements; even though she enjoyed it, it was pure torture as she thought of how much she would long for this hand again later.  
The elven mage smiled smugly at this and leaned closer towards her ear, his lips brushing against it ever so slightly.  
“I want you to think of this whenever I am not around. I want you to go insane merely by remembering this.” he whispered.  
Shocked, she stared to the ceiling as she heard what he had said, yet another pleasant sensation ran through her body.  
He was not wrong, she would think about him. He was always in her head anyway. But with the movements of his fingers he would make her crazy until the end of time.

“We will.... miss the banquet.” she mentioned sighing halfway through her words, but the other ignored them, listening only her body that was asking for more and letting his fingers now slide in and out with ease.  
“Hmm... that sound” he commented with a pleased tone in his voice as he heard his own movements inside of her and started to push into her with much more force. Her eyes widened being caught off guard like that and she gasped at the sensation, as he continued to make her experience all the feelings she was holding back.  
The inquisitor squirmed and muffled her moans as she felt his hand driving her towards the edge of insanity. It was not just a hand, it felt like an invisible force was pushing inside her and filled her up all the way. His movements became so rough and well-paced, filling her up with so much happiness that she had a hard time holding back the sounds that were parting her lips.  
“By the love of the Creators!” she moaned and held both of her hands in front of her face, embarrassed by how she could not hold back and even moved against his hand willingly.  
Another few moments of being done this violently and her eyes rolled upwards, as she lost all control and finally climaxed into his hand. The moaning was immediately covered by Solas’ unoccupied hand over her mouth, the controlling touch sending her even further over the edge as she trembled slightly beneath him.

It took them a moment to recover, but finally Solas took his hand from her lips and also pulled the other one out of her carefully, lovingly parting with her swollen private quarters by his finger gently ghosting over them. Looking at his soiled hand, he licked the drenched tips of his fingers after her. She watched him from her position at the window, one leg still clasped around him and reached over to grasp his shirt and pull him in for a violent, passionate kiss. Solas visibly enjoyed himself at how hungry he had made her for him, eyes closed but grinning into the kiss. Her hand then slid down, wanting to undo his pants - only to be stopped by him immediately by a grab of that hand.  
“No. That is for another time.”


	3. Carving the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two elves explore the history of their people, joke about Cassandra and bond over the borders of reality.

That night Inquisitor Lavellan was twisting and turning in her sheets.  
Not only the prevention of the assassination had taken a toll on her mind, it was also the dancing that had tired her feet - and most of all her elven mage companion who had altered her heart in a way that she found difficult to escape.  
Silky white sheets were cooling her body, most of all the legs, from the heat in the ballroom, and the dark and cold room in Skyhold gave her the chance for mental rest. At last she was alone. But with her mind preoccupied with so many thoughts of what had happened and what was still to do, she found it hard to fall asleep. Slumber only came to her after hours awake in bed that she had spent retelling herself the occurrences of the evening, cooling down her thoughts and with it the very core of her body. Her conscious mind only wandered off in the early morning hours.

The next afternoon her elven companion had taken her on a hike to a forest in the Hinterlands, far away from the troubled areas they had already set up their camps at. This area was quiet, untouched, and the smell of fresh wet leaves brought a sense of clarity and the feeling of an early change from winter to spring.  
Lavellan looked towards their fingers interlaced as they walked, happily smiling, but also keeping half of her happiness to herself - as if she wanted to hide it so that no one could ever know, and in that way also not ever take it away from her. This moment, it was hers. And his. And as she looked up to him and after a while, he also looked over to her briefly as it had become so quiet, he unconsciously did a double take. The mage could not help but smile as he realized the way her eyes laid on him.  
“You seem happy about something.” he remarked, almost unemotionally but with a hidden edge of happiness that he himself was covering up.  
“How could I not be?”  
“I didn’t expect you to be happy just by the walk here.”  
“It’s easy with you. Everything is much easier with you.”  
“Since... everything changed?”  
Lavellan chuckled at the remark and nodded, her other hand leaning into their hands holding to give him a loving squeeze by both hands that Solas replied to with another smile.

“Where are we going?” she then asked as they kept walking.  
“It’s not much further.” he answered without revealing. As they walked quietly among the trees and in the grass, an aura of serenity was emitting from them and Lavellan felt at peace in her heart in a way she had not felt in a long time. She felt that quiet peace that she would feel when she was a child and had played an interesting game of dolls all day, right before she was about to fall asleep happily and feeling accomplished.  
They finally reached the entrance to a cave and both had to bend over to enter it, though none of them ever let go of the other’s hand. As they proceeded past the entrance the cave inside was large and much higher in its ceiling so that they could walk in it freely. The realization hit the inquisitor as they ventured further.  
“This is... one of the caves you mentioned sleeping in.” she guessed.  
“Yes. I thought I could show you some of my world. I owe you this.” The inquisitor immediately smiled sheepishly, accepting the gift - even if it was disguised as owing her - graciously.  
“I would have taken any excuse you have, Solas. Any. So long as you take me with you.” she assured him and made him pause in his movements for a moment, thinking about what was implied, but he merely smiled and continued immediately after.

Only little light came from the entrance as they walked in, but as they reached further and their surroundings darkened, Lavellan could notice weakly glowing markings on the wall. The elven mage carefully led her towards a point he remembered by heart and with a soft movement of his hand lit a veilfire at the end of the circular shaped cave they were in. Lavellan looked around in curiosity and could now make out the elven carvings that were glowing with much more intensity.  
“These are _elvhen_ , aren’t they?”  
The mage nodded slowly as response to her question.  
“Can you tell what they say? You must know it much better than I.”  
Lavellan’s eyes widened in surprise as she heard his words.  
“Why would you say it like that, Solas? You keep suggesting they are not your people but you speak the language of our people perfectly.”  
“You studied it in much more depth, Inquisitor. You know I only learned these things by myself, my knowledge reaches a limit past a certain point.”  
“Oh” Lavellan let out a sound of delight and with it got in a pose to show off her importance, both hands onto her hips, “So I am professionally needed here? You want me only to work as your translator?”  
Every shift of her body was followed by Solas’ gaze and his eyes lingered on her hips a little longer than expected, so that the elven women grew discouraged in her pose and let her arms slide. Again his eyes followed her and they shared a long intimate gaze in the half-lit room.  
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” the mage asked now, with guilt in his voice that his companion could not quite read.  
“No... no, I wouldn’t.” Cluelessly and with sadness in her eyes, Lavellan looked at him as she approached him a few steps again, standing close enough to touch him but refraining from it, finding it hard to understand his mood.  
“This is my sacred place, Inquisitor. I did not tell anyone because I did not want anyone to know about it.”  
“Have you wandered off alone to find it?”  
“I have found it before I even knew you. Cassandra picked me up not so far from here - but I was lucky she never guessed I had my own secret cave.”  
“What did she think? That you came out of nowhere?” Lavellan asked, smiling at the assumption.  
”Most likely. Just as she still thinks you fell from heaven into our hands.”  
“That’s ... Haven. Haven is what you mean. That’s where I fell.” she corrected him in a joking way and he smiled this time.  
“Either way, for all of us it looked like you did fall from the sky.”  
“Oh, I better do not fall off that balcony in Skyhold though.” she added and from his lips the smile never ceased.  
“I would cast a spell to catch you in time.”  
“Would you now? You love me that much?” -- There, a slip of the tongue and after all that joyful unity of smiling they were now both looking at each other in surprise, then looking away in shame.

“I did not meant to--” the inquisitor started, but paused as the mage took her hand and led her with him towards the wall.  
“Here, Inquisitor. This is what I wanted to show you.” He pointed at the markings on the wall and Lavellan, startled by the sudden change of topic, took a while to decipher them.  
“... These are... old. I can only guess most words.” she commented and looked at his profile. He turned towards her, again taken by surprise about how she was staring at him, but then not letting it affect him and pointing out several expressions within the markings.  
“This is a story about a God who once took a liking in one of the _elvhen_ people, a young woman.”  
Lavellan’s eyes widened in curious surprise at what she was told.  
“It must be a very old story, I have never heard of it.”  
“This is one of the oldest caves I have found.” Solas commented. “It is simple in its construction, it must have acted as casual shelter for the _elvhen_ people in long forgotten times.”

The inquisitor approached the wall with the carvings and let her hand run over it, trying to make out what they used to carve into the wall colourfully like this. It fascinated her every time, but this time she had a particular interest in the ancient legend behind it. She turned towards the next marking and ran her hand over it as well, trying to make out the words she read.  
“Shrine... young man... aura of charm, induced longing. -- What does it mean?” Lavellan turned around to study Solas’ approving gestures.  
“As far as I know the story, the _elvhen_ God found pleasure in watching a young woman in her village. She was a kind, bright woman that was mostly cheerful around everyone but also had a deeply cut wound inside of her that let her feel the pain of the world. One day, as she was praying at his shrine, he appeared as a young alluring man that caught her off guard as she had finished her prayers and turned around to leave. Startled as she was, he took her by surprise with his charm, grasped her and pulled her into an embrace. He was lucky his allurement was powerful enough at the proximity of his own shrine, and he could sense that in his arms, the woman he loved had fallen for him.”

Lavellan’s expression softened as she heard the story but then again she looked at him in an unsettled manner.  
“And... they stayed together?” she asked curiously, and the mage nodded slowly. In her head, the inquisitor was going through the details of this story and looked around in the small cave for clues, then turned to Solas again.  
“You lead me here to tell me this story? ... Is this cave the shrine the legend talks about? ” Again Solas nodded and watched her expression carefully.  
“But...” Again she looked around, stood there quietly as she was thinking, then looked back at the mage.  
“You are not telling me you are comparing yourself to an elven God, are you? My, Solas, you have a bigger ego than I thought.” she now commented, grinning again, and the other elf smiled at it as well.  
“You have to have something - even if it’s just a big ego.” They both chuckled about the jokes they exchanged until another thought repeatedly occupied the woman’s mind.

“Which God was it?” she asked and waited for an answer that did not come. Solas remained quiet, looking at her with a stern expression. Then she remembered there were markings left on the other side of the cave and turned around to walk towards those. The very instant she set a foot in that direction, her arm was grabbed and she was held back. As she turned around, she could see the man’s eyes looking into hers with a painful expression in them.  
“Don’t leave, Lavellan.” he begged her quietly, in a serious tone.  
“I would not dream of it.” she responded in shock, and in full sincerity.  
“Are you certain?”  
“I would... no.” She was shaking her head and then gently moved her hand that was grabbed so that her fingers lingered in his. She fully turned towards him, her other hand now cupping the mage’s face for reassurance. “What are you afraid of? I would have never guessed you are scared of anything.”  
“I have always been alone, Ellana. It is strange for me to let someone so close. I can almost not bear it.”  
“You are safe with me, Solas.” she replied, nodding towards her own words and letting her hand run down from his face to his chest, where the mage laid his own on hers, squeezing it gently - the serious look on his face still not vanishing.

“... Who was the elven God?” she now asked again carefully, eyes narrowing as she tried to read the man’s expression.  
He shook his head slowly, not answering for a while.  
“Let us just have this moment, even if it doesn’t seem real.” he finally begged her.  
Visibly focusing on understanding what was going on, at last she grasped the reality of her surroundings.  
“You did it--”

“-- again.” she gasped quietly as she opened her eyes and found herself curled up in her bed alone in Skyhold.


	4. Fools seldom differ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inquisitor finds herself emotionally troubled with what happened the past days. Solas wants to offer his help. At night, Lavellan pays Commander Cullen a visit to ask for his professional opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter._
> 
> \-- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“Inquisitor!” Josephine came up walking fast towards Lavellan, hoping for a chance to catch her before she would not see her all day. “Inquisitor, I applaud you for how wonderfully the ball was handled. I could not have thought of a more formal and effective way to seal the union. Empress Celene and the royalty were more than impressed by how well you handled yourself.”  
Lavellan was caught off guard as she had just gotten up and walked towards the front doors of the main hall, astonishingly well-rested despite her vivid dreaming. She blushed slightly at how the ambassador was gushing over her - remembering the other incident that day with a certain someone, which seemed so very informal and wrong, but perhaps could also be considered a form of the Orlesian Game.

“It was... well, I do hope I do not have to put on an act like that again just for royalty’s sake.” she commented in a down to earth manner, trying to not let her feelings slip out of control.  
“Oh? But it seemed you enjoyed yourself, Inquisitor - it surely suited you, and no harm done in wearing a dress and dancing in it.”  
“It is nothing but a role, but I will not deny that it is a role I occasionally enjoy playing. During certain times more than others. But enough harm was done to my people to ever repeat that act of decadence again.”  
“Clearly, your views are still different from those of the Orlesian court - and we certainly all welcome that about you. I will leave you to your duties, Inquisitor.” The ambassador bowed in a polite manner before turning to head back to her office.

The inquisitor headed straight to the elven mage’s study, where she found him sorting through several academic books on his desk. He turned around with a hinted smile as he heard her enter.  
“You look well-rested.”  
“Is this a game to you?” She was seething in annoyance.  
“What would you mean?” he asked almost cluelessly.  
Immediately she stepped closer and pushed herself against him, hands settling on the desk behind him, passing either side of his body in the process.  
“What are you doing to me?!” Her rough tone made it clear she was expecting answers and was ready to throw things over.  
“Inquisitor... what are you talking about?”  
“The dream? You really have no idea what I am talking about?” The irony in her voice was hard to miss.  
“Oh...” he chuckled. “I knew you needed a good rest, so I gave you something to occupy your mind.”  
“To occupy my mind?!” Lavellan noticed how loud her voice had gotten so that she looked around and then behind her as well, wondering if others would hear what she was about to say. She immediately continued more quietly, “And what you did to me at the Winter Palace? You think that was not enough to occupy my mind?”  
Solas found it hard to hold back his grin, almost needed to bite it back.  
“You are terrible, Solas. Terrible!” she accused him while he raised his hands in defense.  
“Detain me for my crimes then. I am clearly guilty.” His hands were now moving to be stretched out in front of him for show, as if they were about to be tied and he was to be taken in.  
“Oh so funny, mage. Didn’t know they teach apostates how to joke.” She was clearly still annoyed at him so that he lowered his hands again, another grin hinting at the pleasure he got from getting her that worked up.

She did not move away from him, and they shared a few looks, him waiting on something, her reluctant and biting her lip. Then, all of a sudden she pushed him against the desk hard, and herself on top of him, arms around him as he was holding her by the hips. He had not given it much thought, his hands wrapped around her naturally the moment she was on top of him. Her knees had reached the desk to lean on, being now held by it as she sat on his lap and he on the desk itself, not letting her slip away. Their lips came closer but neither gave in to the touch.  
Lavellan reached for his neck, both hands wrapping around it and the fingers started applying pressure gently. She stared at his lips in the moments that were passing, waited until those very lips finally parted and the much desired sigh from him could be heard. He turned his head ever so slightly, looking at her from narrowed eyes as she was still in control. She approached his face with hers as it turned, her mouth ghosting over his - and she stared at his lips again, then intensely in his eyes, always back and forth while she was still gently squeezing. He followed her gaze, then kept his eyes on hers with a sense of guilt.

“You’re hiding something from me.” she realized in shock as she felt an insincerity in those eyes. It was just a split second that she had felt it, but it was there. She loosened her hold around his neck instantly.  
“... What would that be?” Solas wanted to know, curious but in his usual calm manner. It became clear that she could not remember her dream entirely.  
“I don’t know...”  
The inquisitor’s hands lowered into her lap now, and the mage then let his hands slide from her hips to her waist, supporting the arch of her back.  
“You seem confused.” He gave her a moment to gather her thoughts and to let her speak up, but not a sound came from her, only a stoic look on her face. Silence reigned until he decided to take the lead.  
“Let us go for a walk outside. I will tell you everything you want to know.”

“Do you remember this path?” the mage asked as they walked over the hills around Skyhold. The empty fields before them cleared the mind visually and the natural landscape made their hearts feel more at ease.  
“Yes”, Lavellan answered with a laugh, as it was the route they had walked to Skyhold when they first arrived and that she still walked occasionally, “You’re checking if my memory is intact now?”  
“I just wanted to make sure.” the mage insisted with a smile towards her and they shared a moment when their eyes met.  
“You seem to care about me.” Lavellan began after that moment of peace. “I cannot tell in what way.”  
“What worries you, Inquisitor?” He was eager to address her troubles immediately.  
“Well, for one, that you keep calling me Inquisitor...”  
“That-- is the formal manner of addressing you after all. I would not want to be impolite.”  
“You called me _Vhenan_ before.”  
“I did... and you are.”

Another moment of silence passed and Lavellan looked at him before speaking. As she realized he was not going to look at her, she took his hand and they stopped in the green field, with him finally returning the gaze.  
“I remember we were in this ruin. No... in a cave. And I remember the elven markings. What did they mean?”  
“They were just ancient carvings of our people, talking of legends. Nothing more.”  
“What were the legends about? Why did we go there?”  
“It was old stories about the elven Gods. I wanted to show you where I was sleeping to induce my dreams in the Fade, that is all.”  
“Does that cave really exist?”  
Solas nodded. The inquisitor was visibly lost in her thoughts as she looked over the vast empty fields that were in front of them and was trying to remember the details of the faded dream.  
“What happened in the cave? I barely remember anything.”  
“We talked, and then you woke up. It is not important to remember anything. It was to release your mind from its duties and so that we could spend time together in peace. Let us speak of what is now. What are you thinking about? How can I be of service to you? That is what is important.”

As she heard Solas’ explanation, Lavellan looked up cheerfully. But it lasted only for an instant. As her doubts from before crawled back, her face began showing signs of sadness.  
“But I don’t know if I can trust you. You seem far away suddenly.”  
“What makes you feel that way?”  
“You don’t even look at me anymore. And when you do... it’s not with the same eyes as before.”  
As he attentively listened to her, his heart was filled with sorrow. He came yet another step closer to her, eliminating all distance between them and wrapping his arms around her in a protective embrace.  
“I am so sorry.” The words were spoken quietly, but the elven woman felt them lingering around her. A hand was stroking over the back of her head. Lavellan’s eyes were still wide open, staring over his shoulder into the empty fields. She did not return the embrace.  
“What are you sorry about?” Hesitance in her voice implied that she was not necessarily ready to hear what was going to be revealed.  
“I am lost in my own thoughts lately, and I cannot help it - I get carried away. But you have become the most important thing in my life, and my heart cannot bear to lose you.”  
“... Are you talking about me or the anchor?” She shifted in his arms and tried to look up at him.  
“... You, of course!” He was shocked at the accusation, but the woman in his arms chuckled at the reaction.  
“The anchor just reminds me of how unique you are, and how lucky I am to have found you.”

“Your image of me is distorted. I look special to everyone because I carry this mark... and the Inquisition.” He shook his head slowly at her words, his arms still around her loosely, so that they could read the feelings in one another’s eyes.  
“No. We have had this conversation. I know who you are.”  
“I am the one stupid enough to trust you with her heart.”  
“No.” He shook his head again in the same way, discouraged, but his eyes were never averted from her this time. “I feel the burden you are putting on yourself, and I feel how I add to your trouble. But I will do my part, I will take care of your feelings. I will make sure that you are safe. Have faith. The skies will clear up.”

“What is it that you ask of me? That I blindly trust you?”  
“You walk your own path, Inquisitor. You are not blind. But I will be at your side anyway. Any help that you ask of me - I will grant it. I will walk with you even if you want me just for company. I will make myself look like an idiot, if you insist on it.”  
“Oh, that was an option? I think I would very much like that...” Her fingers twitched for a moment, then her arms cautiously found their way from his waist to around his back. She leaned the side of her face against him, and her nails sank into the fabric of his coat as she breathed in deeply, and with it, took in his scent.  
“Please make a fool of yourself. I don’t want to be the only one.” she muffled against him.  
“I have plenty of chances left, haven’t I? I will make a good fool, I think.” He chuckled, his hand stroking the back of her head once more. Slowly they came to a halt, and the fingers lingered over her hair.

“There is something on your mind too, I can sense it.” he insisted, but the inquisitor then broke away from their embrace and started walking again, taking him by the hand to walk with her. Their leisurely walk felt like the first spark of spring after a long winter sleep, now that the mood had been altered.  
“You first.”  
“Me?” He asked as if he felt it was unnecessary to share his own burden, but then gave in as they continued walking. “You have been on my mind, and everything that has happened. I am no longer just dreaming and exploring the Fade. The time to act has come and I am wondering if I am doing everything right.”  
“No one can do everything right.”  
“That is why I need a long time to contemplate these things. So that I can avoid the worst mistakes.”  
“... Fair. It is better to take the time you need.” She seemed to understand, at the very least she understood that Solas needed time to work through things, as even she needed that time on some days, but seldom took it.

“And what bothers you, Inquisitor? What is on your mind? I do feel quite like an idiot for asking over and over, so you have accomplished your mission.”  
“That was too easy. I am not letting you have that.” she remarked teasingly. As they walked in silence along one another, she grew more at peace, finally sharing the restrained thoughts with a sigh. “It’s still Corypheus. And... what happened at the Winter Palace. I am concerned about the behaviour of the Empress and Briala for some reason.”  
“The battle with Corypheus will come in due time, and you will be ready for it, Inquisitor. What is it about the Empress and Briala that makes you feel uneasy?”  
“... You’ve said it yourself. It was not quite like them to set me up in such a manner. Especially the way Celene and Briala convinced me gave me a lot to think about last night. It is not their typical behaviour, I think.”  
The mage carefully watched her as she spoke, and paused to think about her words before answering.  
“You sense that their acts are influenced by something? Perhaps you are right. It sounded like Briala was up to something from the start. It would be very much like her to support the elves. Maybe it is harmless, so it is better to not jump to any conclusions or take accusations too far now. Would it not be best to ask Leliana or Josephine about their opinion on how to approach the topic? Leliana could possibly send some spies, and Josephine would turn in one or two favours to gather information diplomatically.”  
“Yes... That sounds like the right thing to do.” She nodded immediately, feeling the next steps in her plans forming in her head. Talking about it had indeed managed to clear some of her doubts. Her companion agreed that something was not natural, so she was not imagining things. She smiled at the mage as she noticed her thoughts disentangled, and he smiled back in a serene way that induced the same feeling of peace in her.

A cold wind blew over the hills, and it came like a sudden call to them; a call back home. As Lavellan’s hair was brushed to the side by it, the lengths dancing in the air, she felt a chill and shivered slightly. The ever so slight tremble was noticed by the mage who stepped closer and in response to her reaction, took off his fur stole and laid it around her neck. His fingers working its way around her without actually touching her gave her another reason to shiver internally. Charmed by the chivalrous act, Lavellan looked at him with naive eyes.  
“It suits your beauty very well. You remind me of a noblewoman. Maybe you should wear it instead from now on.”  
The woman shook her head politely.  
“I can’t take a gift like that. You will be cold.”  
“I will still have you to keep me warm in my thoughts at night.”

The elven woman felt like a young girl being romanced for her very first time, her heart longing for his warmth. He did not dare to miss this chance, fingers of one hand wrapping around the neck and carrying her into a romantic fantasy with a sensual kiss.  
“Solas”, she sighed and with it broke the kiss, something still not giving her rest. “What do you feel for me?”  
An intense and loving look appeared on his face, yet there was also sadness buried in it.  
“I have not lied when I confessed my feelings to you. But it is still difficult for me to understand some of them. Which is perhaps why I seem distant to you.”  
The inquisitor nodded with a calm expression after she had processed the words. These things needed time, and she knew she was impatient. But she knew there was also no reason to be impatient as he was here at her side - he was her heart and she was his, and that is all that was needed.  
“Well, if you ever want to talk about them or explore them together... I would be really happy if you share them.”  
“I will, _Vhenan_.” As he took her hand and they started slowly walking back to Skyhold, hearing his voice raised once more came unexpected to Lavellan. “I will treasure this.”

Back at Skyhold, the elven inquisitor decided to first consult with Cullen to hear his opinion. Something in her told her that he would have a clear opinion on what had happened in Orlais. When Leliana or Josephine, in their diplomatic upbringing, usually had balanced views on issues, Cullen was much more clearly leaning towards one side or another.  
Night had fallen and lights were glowing from the stronghold’s windows. Though most were not working on official tasks at this hour, Cullen was the exception. As Lavellan entered his study quietly, he was occupied with speaking to some of his soldiers, so that she waited at the entrance. He noticed her only when he had concluded his business and was left alone in the room with her.

“Inquisitor” he greeted, and faced her the moment he had sent off the troops, though with a strong distance between them and with a weary voice. “What can I do for you?”  
“I want to apologize for coming to you at this late hour when I know your schedule is bursting with appointments.”  
“It is of no bother; do not worry, Inquisitor.” the templar replied politely.  
“I was hoping for advice on the topic of the Orlesian alliance.”  
“Oh-- you are definitely asking the wrong person for that.”  
“No... no, hear me out. I think Leliana and Josephine will have their heads too wrapped up in this. I want to hear your opinion.”  
“If you... well, if you insist.” A look of astonishment was seen on his face but it was of a pleasant kind.

“You surely recall Briala and her plot. I remember you favoured Gaspard as potential ruler over Orlais and believe in his powerful influence, but I doubt he has anything to do with what I suspect. It seems... it seems Briala could have set up the whole dancing act as a status change for elves.” She left out who influenced her speculations, not wanting to get her elven mage companion into what was now her own assumption.  
Visibly confused, the Commander leaned back against his desk, facing the inquisitor.  
“A status change? You rise and your people rise with you?” He wondered if he had gotten the implications of her theory correctly. “Does this come as an unforeseen plot to you?”  
“At first it did not. But I was expecting something from Celene. It makes no sense either way - the impact of the ball is too small, it will not reach outside of the Imperial court. She said it herself.”  
The Commander nodded, gaze lost in the distance as his mind was running through the facts.

“Something could be deliberately used for show, and it would ruin or raise your reputation, depending on how it was laid out. It is entirely possible. But what disturbs me, Inquisitor, is that you make it out like it was a special occurrence. This is very common behaviour in Orlais, and again I am sure your other advisors will give much better assistance.”  
“Does it really seem so normal to you to dress a political figure up like a mannequin and let her dance in front of everyone?”  
“... Is it so different from what Florianne did? The skill to control puppets on a string is naturally given to any court member of Orlais. It is practically a birthright.”  
No answer was given to the templar and he eventually realized what his own words could be implying.  
“I understand. We indeed cannot be sure if they are on our side or will merely use us for what their plan is. It is wise to be cautious.” He paused for a moment, thinking of what could be done. “I could send out a few troops to give Orlais support where it is required and we could build trust through that. It could give us an official tie to them without you as a mannequin -- to use your words, Inquisitor.” The Commander seemed to regret the choice of expression he had borrowed from the Inquisitor the second it left his lips. Even after he explained himself, he was uneasy about his faux pas.

“I regret it, Commander.” she blurted out the moment he finished his sentence and drew his gaze upon her entirely.  
“The dance?”  
“Not the dance itself. But acting as... whatever that was. I was robbed of my political agency.”  
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Inquisitor. It was hard to decline after all. And the ramifications cannot be as severe as you perceive them. Speak to Leliana about this, she will know how to address the issue and we will have clues in no time.”  
“Thank you for your thoughts on the matter. I appreciate your uncorrupted view.”  
“Anytime.” Pausing for a second, he decided to not let her go yet by speaking up again, choosing the words carefully this time. “But I feel your intuition on this. I am starting to sense there is something more, too. As common as it might seem for Orlais, there is an unnatural touch to this.”


	5. Obedience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two elves laze around, talk about Dalish markings, then get back to “work” ( **explicit** ). Then Lavellan really gets back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Retrospectively Solas seems a bit like Zevran here, but they are both the most sensual companions so hey can you blame me-- it is him who probably picked up the Antivan massage skills~~

“Must we always be together only here?”  
“We’re together anywhere. Here, too.”  
“But why here?”  
“This is not me, Inquisitor. This is what your mind longs for, you are asking for this.” the elven mage explained as they lay under a tree in the green. She was lying in his arm, hands on his chest as he was playing with her hair with one hand and had the other behind his head for comfort.  
“Is this all it is with you? I am asking for it, and you give it to me?” A look of crushed hope on her face turned towards him made him stop in his movements and let his hand rest on her head.  
“You are overworked. And it’s natural, from all that you are going through. Give yourself a rest. This is your time.”  
“My time with you seems so limited.” she sighed. In response, the man let his hand slide down her shoulders and pulled her closer.  
“We have all the time in the world. That is why I bring you here.”  
“... But I am scared our days are numbered.”  
“How long would you give us?” he asked.  
“I am not sure. 50 days? Or nights, depending on how you count.”  
Solas chuckled at how seriously the elven woman was in her words, yet there seemed to be a sense of lightness in them, as if she had accepted it and was now just trying to give herself a more or less realistic estimate - with an oddly specific number of days.  
“50 Fades then?” he asked, checking up on her as she seemed stoic and emotionally clear. She nodded.  
“50 Fades, then you leave.”  
“If that is your desire.”  
“No, it’s not.” she answered bitterly and frowned at him.  
“Then I will stay.”  
“I will steal your heart. And all your knowledge. And I will sell it to just anyone for the highest price.” Her tone reminded him of a lion baby, trying to roar.  
“Is that a threat?” he inquired, laughing.  
“It’s a statement.” she replied objectively, and they shared a quiet moment.  
“You already have my heart, _Vhenan_.” 

In her dreams with Solas, Lavellan felt and understood everything clearly but she started to realize that, like with regular dreams, she forgot certain things once she woke up. The time with the elven mage together was precious, and most times they did not do much but waste time in a leisurely way, which was a welcome distraction to the inquisitor’s overfilled day-time schedule.  
In her dreams she sometimes remembered the other dreams she had with him before. It felt as if fragments of her memory were left floating in the Fade and she thought that maybe she could collect them if she was skilled enough to find them.

“What are you thinking about?” the mage inquired as she had become so quiet. They both were sitting up and leaning against the tree at this time, with Lavellan turned towards her companion as his arm was still around her. In the blink of an eye she snapped out of her thoughts and replied without hesitation.  
“You. Always you.”  
“So you are keeping secrets from me too?” It seemed like he found it hard to believe her words.  
“I would never.” She chuckled but the other did not find it amusing. “You can read me like an open book anyway.”  
“Yes, but then there is always that one page I can’t read, or a torn one in another place.”  
“Is that so bad?”

With a hand around her chin, he turned her head towards himself now and looked at her markings, a finger tip running from her forehead to her cheek and her chin, gently tracing the coloured lines.  
“I am still curious about some things. You must have gotten these a long time ago. What do they mean?”  
“You really want to know? ... They are Dalish after all.”  
“I want to know about you, not about the Dalish.”  
“You might be disappointed by how little is behind them.” She laughed a little. “But... they do mean something. The upper one is confidence, the lower one means humility. They remind me of the different phases of life and keep me going: confidence, so that I shall stand strong during times of struggle; humility so that I will not take the riches of life for granted.”  
“It sounds like you have one spirit and one demon in you. And confidence sounds more like the pride the Dalish take in their culture.”  
“Do you think the pride in our culture is wrong?”  
“It is not a virtue.”  
“It is not a virtue, but if we do not confidently keep up the traditions, they will vanish.” Lavellan insisted.

“... You could be right.” He said and started tracing her markings gently again. She enjoyed the gentle caressing, melting at the feathery touch. As his finger reached the marking on her chin, she opened her mouth and lowered her chin on purpose, catching the index finger between her teeth.  
A pleased humming sound left his lips and he let his middle finger follow to slide inside of her. She accepted him happily, closing her eyes and letting him gently play with her - pushing against her tongue, running over the alignment of teeth. It felt so good to have him move against her that she could hardly let him go.  
“You just _want_ me to do things to you.” he commented, breathing out heavily. It did take its toll on him how sensually she replied to all of his actions.  
She opened her eyes again and he pulled his hand out carefully, a long stare passing between them. Her arms naturally wrapped around his neck and as she was turning to straddle him like she had done it once before, his hands on her hips willingly took her back in.

Their gazes met with a deep longing for each other, neither of them smiling anymore. As moments passed, the inquisitor’s eyes showed signs of doubt.  
“Are you making me forget the dreams on purpose?” She knew she had to ask, or he would never tell.  
“No.” His hands around her waist held her tight. “I would never intend to do anything that harms you.”  
There was something interesting about his wording. She tilted her head slightly, trying to find the truth in his eyes. She felt like she had found it once before. Lavellan lifted one of her hands and let it gently stroke his head, then it moved towards his ear and neck again.  
“I am a fool for you, Solas. I would choose being a fool over and over, if it was for you.”  
“The fool that wants to be fooled.”  
She nodded with deliberation, readily accepting the role. Her hand kept stroking him in the same sequence again, but she stopped for a moment as she raised her voice.  
“If you’re lying to me... please just don’t ever stop.”

The mage swallowed hard as he heard her words. She was fully concious and aware what she was doing, and yet she still gave herself up to him. Breathing out heavily his head leaned back towards the tree, so that he now was looking at her with half-closed eyes from his position.  
At that very moment Lavellan realized he had hardened right where she was sitting on him, and her lips parted as she felt it.  
“... That? That turns you on?”  
“You’re being so vulnerable and open with your feelings... That honest display of emotions, the feminine aura... it’s torturing me.”  
It was hard for Lavellan herself to endure that seductive stare with his hard-on pushing against her through the fabric. Yet he was not pressuring her - he was a gentleman, like always letting the lady of his heart take the first step - or at the very least driving her insane until she made the first step.

She could not help but wrap her arms around him time and again, pulling herself so close that their bodies were pressed and moving against each other, and leaned into a kiss. It was the consent he had been waiting for and his hands ran from the waist towards her ass, squeezing it as if they had been longing to do so all day.  
One of his hands rushed forward to undo her pants, then both hands slid inside at the back to continue squeezing her lovingly.  
“Wait--” she sighed as she broke away from the kiss.  
“Don’t think. Don’t ruin this by thinking. You trust me, don’t you?”  
As she leaned back only so far that the tip of her nose was still touching the bridge of his, she nodded hesitantly.  
“Kiss me, Ellana. Give yourself to me.”  
He nudged his nose against her cheek gently, lips ghosting over her markings without ever giving in to the touch. He would not do her the favour and follow his order himself. She had to do it.  
Her eyes were still closed but she opened them briefly, staring through half-opened lids at her companion who was in turn waiting patiently, though also filled with a deep desire. She shook her head teasingly slow at his behaviour, the longing for him too strong, her hand cupping his face to seal their lips and their contract - and her fate.

When her lips parted and she slipped inside his mouth, he let her in and adjusted to her pace as she pressed against his wet tongue. Once he felt he had calmed her enough, his hands at her rear squeezed her again, her naked skin feeling the desire for intimacy. The fingers slid down a little further, so that the very tips were only moments away from her womanly entry and pulled her apart.  
With her entry teased, a muffled sigh escaped her and she frowned at the sensation that it caused - and at all the dirty thoughts that came with it. The tip of one finger reached past the sensitive skin and could sense a wet drip starting to cover it.  
“You have been aroused this whole time.” he sighed into their half-broken kiss at the realisation.  
“I am aroused whenever I see your face.” she confessed, lips eagerly pressing against his again.

Restless as she was over his actions, her hand could not lie still and ran down from his neck to his chest and to his abdominal muscles, wanting to touch him. After all, that erection of his was still pressing against her and she had behaved the whole time. But as soon as her fingers reached so much as the seam of his pants, both of her hands were suddenly pulled back by an invisible force. It felt to her like her wrists were tied behind her back, but she did not feel any ties around them. Solas still had his hands inside her pants so he could not be the one doing it. As she looked over her shoulder, she could not see anyone, so that she turned to her companion again, questioning him with her gaze.  
“Using magic to your advantage again?”

He did not answer but it was the corner of his mouth raised to a grin that told her she was right. With Lavellan’s back straightened due to being forced into this position, her chest was protruding. It was too inviting. The mage’s lips ran over it through the fabric of her blouse. One hand came to the button-down front, and undid the part of the shirt that revealed her chest and bralette beneath it, which was shining in a soft shade of salmon-pink, in contrast to her off-white blouse. With her neck and stomach remaining buttoned-up, Lavellan was visibly ashamed in the position she was in. A humming sound left the mage’s lips when he spoke up again.

“So exposed and vulnerable. Yet such a whore, dripping and aching for a cock.”  
One hand was still at her entry and he could feel her getting wet at his every word, and at every motion his finger was making. It was starting to run up and down her slit, the movement teasing her vulva as it spread the lips occasionally. The inquisitor turned her head to the side in shame. She was not used to being exposed like that - usually everyone respected and honoured her. If Solas honoured her... he surely did it in his own way.  
“You can choose not to look at me but I can still see what you are longing for.” The hand that had opened the buttons of her blouse was now sliding to one of her breasts, caressing it through the thin pink fabric. She wanted to move her hands at the touch, to hold onto his hand and give herself a rest, but the barrier around the wrists made it impossible so that her winding only led to her pushing more against him.

“Tell me you want it.” he demanded in a serious tone.  
“Want... what?”  
“You know what I want to hear.” His hand was sliding from the breasts towards her navel, only the thumb making it past her underwear, sliding inside and stroking over the short hair it encountered. She blushed as he came so close, that thumb not going any further down, but still moving to the side and back, getting more of a feel for her body hair.  
“You damn well know that I want to ride your dick.” A pained expression on her face showed that she had to force herself to say it, feeling like she had humiliated herself. The thumb sank lower with it, and hit her hardened clit, the other fingers resting on her lower stomach above it.  
“See how that turns you on? I wonder what else would...” Slow circular motions started stroking her and she threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. And with the confession made, now she was thinking about just that: that she wanted to ride him until she lost consciousness.

“I’d imagine, since you sneak to the Commander’s study at night, you would also enjoy it to get fucked over his desk while he is gone?” His finger tip at her entry pushed inside her as he asked that and she let out a muffled groan, the mage’s hands soiled with her fluids further.  
At the realization of what had just been said, she lowered her gaze to look at him.  
“You’ve watched me when I went to see him?”  
“I can see you from my window easily when you walk up there. And yes, I did want to go after you. And I do want to soil all the papers on his desk with your fluids.”  
The moment he had said it, in her fantasy Lavellan was already bent over the Commander’s desk with Solas working her up with his hand, so much that her juices were squirting out of her. Or, maybe he was actually taking her from behind, thrusting into her with the dick she so wanted. Oh, that dick... No matter the position, the outcome was always the same in her head: that she ruined the oh-so important papers on the Commander’s desk beneath her. Oh, why did he have to give her that...

Another digit was moved to her entrance as her fluids were readily running down the one that was already there, and Solas thrusted inside her with both at once. With a loud moan Lavellan fell towards him at the piercing sensation. Taking his other hand from her clit, he let it join the one on the backside again, pulling her cheeks apart so he could thrust into her with ease.  
“Yes, like that... I want you to surrender. Let yourself go.” he breathed against her neck as her forehead was weakly leaning on his shoulder.  
“Fuck me, Solas. Please fuck me hard.” she begged, not daring to look up. Her head turned though, lips approaching the neck and as soon as they touched it, she sank her teeth into the skin. His fingers kept pushing eagerly and again she felt more than just his hand. Something was thrusting into her so deeply that her lips broke away from his neck, letting out withered, broken off sounds.  
“I want your dick... I can’t stand this. I want your dick!”  
Smugly smiling he merely slowed down his movements inside of her. The one hand that was always eager to spread her entry now gently caressed those lower lips.

“How did a whore like you become Inquisitor?” he teased and as she looked at him from her position on his shoulder, he saw a hint of flushed cheeks.  
“You’re aching for me to fill you up like I am the last man on earth.”  
She felt her own insides contracting as his fingers had stopped moving in her, indeed physically aching for him - and he felt it too, much to her dismay. Now she had no chance of hiding it anymore.  
“Solas... Let me touch you at least. Let me have you in my mouth... oh Creators, what I would do to have you in my mouth.” she requested, trying to negotiate but he ignored her. A grin appeared on his face as he realized the position of power the movements of his hands gave him.  
“I want to take you in my mouth and swallow you... I want you so bad.” She could no longer gather a single sensible thought, everything was guided by her senses. Her face turned towards his shoulder again and she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt his fingers penetrating her with full force.  
His answer to her pleading was but a quiet disapproving dental click, as if he was about to lecture her on her manners.  
“So impatient.” he concluded in a quietly observant manner.  
Instantly she felt him filling her up until it hit her womb, and a heavy and sharp pant left her at the sensation. Lavellan was twitching around his fingers and could not influence it, her juices flowing out of her uncontrollably.

“Much too early, Inquisitor. Let me enjoy myself with you.” he continued, hinting at the patience and obedience he required for his play. His movements stopped for a moment and he pushed her upper body towards himself, the hand holding her ass letting the fingers dig deeply into the flesh, so that she was put back to sit up straight once more. At last he could run his mouth over the pink bustier, catching the fabric between his teeth and letting his tongue slide beneath the pink veil skillfully. All the while the fingers were relentlessly pushing inside her and the dear inquisitor was slowly but steadily losing her mind. She was still ashamed, but had also lost all control and moved against his hands wildly, her back arching, legs starting to shake. She was so close, she just needed a few more of those rough thrusts. He felt her whole body tensing up, watched her face that was turned away from him with her eyes closed as she could not bear to look at him while she was pushing her hips towards him.  
“No...” she whimpered as she felt his slender fingers parting from her. For a moment he pulled out completely, but as the digits entered her again and were just about to thrust inside her mercilessly, she could feel the whole world around her vanishing, turning into nothing but a white light that surrounded her.

As her consciousness found back to the physical world and body, warm rays of sun on her face awoke her and the minute she opened her eyes, she knew she had not been set free. Something was lingering on her soul heavily, and with it the yearning deeply buried inside. Resting on her back, she let her fingers touch her own lips that felt like they had been kissed, yet they were not. A sensation in her nether regions made her slide that very same hand down to her core that felt like it had been touched, yet it was not - left was only a gentle tingling sensation that was calling out for her lover silently.  
She decided she could take care of it after having a look at her daily schedule, and maybe a certain mage would offer more than a hand this time. 

Once dressed and ready to leave her room, the second she opened the door and took a step outside, she realized Leliana was standing in front of her and startled visibly, shaking for a moment at the sudden encounter.  
“By the--!” Her hand ran up to her own heart, trying to calm it as she was leaning in for a moment, gathering back her composure.  
“Inquisitor.” she greeted. “I did not intend to scare you.”  
The Chantry sister seemed completely unaffected by emotions, nothing but her eyes moving and occasionally blinking as they followed the other woman in her movements.  
“You sure did though, quite well even for not trying.” The inquisitor breathed out heavily, calming herself still. “How long exactly have you been in front of my door like that?”  
“Not long. I have an urgent matter to discuss with you.”  
Now Lavellan’s eyes were fiercely on Leliana, sensing that urgency in her words.  
“Can it wait a litte? I am in the middle of--”  
“In fact, it cannot. I have looked into what you have asked me to look into and now I need you to get your gear and come with me to Val Royeaux, at once.”  
“... then let me at least freshen up and talk to--”  
“ _At once_ , Inquisitor.”  
The insistence in her sharp tone was palpable. Lavellan blinked at her, visibly confused.  
“We go now, alone. Pack your things and we will take our leave. A debriefing can be arranged on the way.”


	6. Clouded view

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana escorts the inquisitor to Val Royeaux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _No one will admit_   
>  _The time or the places they've been_
> 
> \-- Anon (Low)

The dark-coloured horse carriage was passing through the outer fields of Skyhold in a mannered pace with no sense of urgency behind it. Sitting inside were only the elven inquisitor and her Spymaster. Lavellan was still visibly irritated by the red-haired woman who had stood in her room while she was gathering her armour and the small necessaries she needed for the day-long trip to Orlais - as if she was a child who could not do something in a timely manner and had to be watched over.  
“Do not stare at me like that, Inquisitor.” With fearless eyes, void of any emotion, Leliana stared at her as she made the polite yet persistent request, not ever showing signs of being intimidated or touched by the feelings the inquisitor could be imposing on her. Her back was always straight, as though she was not able to slouch or feel tired. Her composure was intimidating and fascinating in many ways - one wondered how exactly she had become that way and what were the things she omitted in the stories when she explained it.

Lavellan’s eyes let go of her, then looked out of the carriage’s dark-veiled window as they were passing the fields. Her heart stung at the realisation that just a day ago she stood here with her elven companion... and her lips sensed a warmth on them as she remembered the kiss - the sensation turning into a jolt of pleasure, hitting her stomach and nether regions with the force of thunder and lightning during a summer storm. She turned away from the window and leaned into the fur stole around her shoulders, chin brushing against the soft animal hairs. She took in the little of the mage’s scent that was left on it, mixed with the scent of that scene... the wind, the early spring sun that had shined on the fur and the fields. Inside, she was completely sunken into the sensation.

Only once they had moved past the fields in a safe distance from Skyhold, Leliana’s gaze turned from the window out of which she had been looking towards Lavellan. She found her lost in her thoughts, face lowered into the stole with her eyes closed, and kept looking quietly at her for a while.  
Lavellan’s eyelashes swung upwards as she noticed the gaze on her and returned it with harshness in her eyes.  
“I did not mean to cause any inconvenience, Inquisitor. Rather, my actions were meant to give discretion and to shield you from unwanted influences.”  
“What unwanted influences could that be?” Even though her words were picked to be objective, the elven woman asked with a tone in her voice that showed a hint of annoyance at how the situation had been handled.  
“It’s a very political and private matter. It is better no one knows anything about this until we are sure about our sources of doubt.”  
“You’re suggesting there is spies _in_ Skyhold?”  
“Anything is possible at this point.”  
“No, that’s going too far. I recruited all agents personally and I trust my associates.”

Leliana’s facial expression did not change, but the stoic stare could make anyone doubt themselves.  
“Besides, you didn’t have to hire a carriage. I am perfectly capable of riding a horse.”  
“I did. You do not realize you have eyes on you.”  
“You talk of it as if someone were about to assassinate me.”  
The other woman’s eyes were unmoved by any feelings but the slightest tilt of her head, with the raise of her eyebrows for a moment until they came back to her resting position, was telling something among the lines of a yet to be confided assumption.  
“Leliana, talk to me. What is it that you are suspecting?”  
“It is better for you if I do not say anything for now.”  
“Why is everyone so keen on keeping secrets from me?!” Realising how her own voice was raised, the inquisitor looked at her Spymaster with a surprised expression for a moment. Nevertheless no emotional response could be detected from the former bard.

”What did I do to all of you to deserve this?” Lavellan’s voice softened, but the thought that had spun up left a bitter aftertaste.  
“Inquisitor.” The other woman started sympathetically. “You are in a vulnerable position.”  
The very second she heard her words, an expression of horror was visible on the elven woman’s face. Before her eyes were flashing the images of last night’s dream that only now came to her memory. She saw herself, vulnerable and exposed in the hands of her elven companion. What had he been doing to her?  
“... Everybody just wants to keep you safe, you must understand that.” Leliana’s words echoed in the distance as Lavellan was struggling to come back to reality. The Spymaster showed signs of concern for her associate, but held back in her words politely, giving her time to catch herself.  
“Yes.” The Inquisitor swallowed all the feelings and thoughts that came up in her at once. But she could not think clearly. “You are right.”  
Her words were replied to with a nod from Leliana’s side. The elven woman leaned back in her seat with a sigh, trying to come back to the present. A hand settled on her forehead where it met the hairline as she struggled through setting in her emotions. Her gaze followed the fields outside that were slowly changing to a flat forested land. Noticing the turn of her attention the Spymaster followed suit. The clouds barely let any sunshine through, and the forested land was hiding a dark interior that could not be seen from the outside. The scenery seemed to calm them, a much fresher air filling the carriage as all emotionality had been discharged.

“What I meant to tell you...” Leliana started after a few moments, still staring out of the window but with the inquisitor’s eyes back on her. “Is that there is rumors in Orlais. They say that you have cut your Dalish ties.”  
“My Dalish ties? Why -- how would they--” The realization hit her. “Really? The dress?”  
She laughed for a moment, unable to believe that such a trivial issue could cause so much trouble. “The dress, the dance. The kind of company you kept at Halamshiral. This is how it starts in Orlais: with the little things.”  
“What was I supposed to do? Free the elves of slavery right there and then?”  
“That was probably hoped for, in one way or another.”  
The elf threw her hands up in the air in bewilderment, and they sank back to her lap with a sound.  
“The elven population of Orlais took it as a statement - that you are not on their side. And that you do not represent the elves. Not the Dalish and not them. They will not trust you. Worse - they might even act against you.”  
“Celene...” Lavellan words came out in quiet anger at the suspect, nails digging into her palm as she formed a fist that rested on her thigh.  
Leliana tilted her head in curiosity, eyes asking questions her mouth would not.  
“She promised me it will have no lasting effects on my name.”  
“Well... you know what promises are in Orlais. You can twist them in a way that will suit your needs.”  
“I expected this. But I wanted to trust her.” Her fist loosened as she worked through her feelings once again.

“Have you talked to anyone else about this?”  
“No... well. Nobody but Cullen.” The moment she stopped speaking, she remembered that she had talked to Solas about it as well, but deciding in a quick manner it was now worth to speak up again, she choose to omit his name willfully.  
“Good. It is better you do not talk about the matter to anyone besides your advisors until it is resolved. We cannot be careful enough.”  
The inquisitor sighed in relief, feeling a little less pressure on her chest now.  
“We will set it straight, Inquisitor. Behind the curtain might not be who we expect though. It could have Briala involved after all. Or it could be someone else entirely.” A calming tone marked the Spymaster’s words for the first time during their conversations today. “Josephine is awaiting us in Val Royeaux. She will be with you during your visit with the Empress. I have some other matter to attend to but will join you as soon as I can.”

Though the inquisitor desired to know where Leliana went, she found it useless to ask; either the Spymaster would tell her on her own later or it was probably irrelevant. Or she wanted to keep it a secret, for whatever reason. The idea that so many people around her kept secrets from her still made her feel uneasy the instant that it came back to her mind.  
“Inquisitor, it is good to see you arrived safely.” Josephine was in her usual attire and they were standing in front of the palace the Empress was living at. “I believe she is awaiting for us. Let me announce you.”  
They started walking past the front gardens towards the palace that seemed enormous in size compared to the Winter Palace.

“So this is the Summer Palace, I take?” Lavellan did not know what to make of the building, and with the view from their position could hardly see all of it.  
The ambassador laughed in the captivating way that she usually brightened everyone’s mood with, her accent adding to the thrill as she spoke again.  
“Not quite. In fact the Empress and her family can be found here most of the time, from spring to late Autumn. Only in winter they leave for Halamshiral.”  
“And this place stays empty? What a waste.”  
“... Inquisitor, I must remind you to watch your words once we are inside. We have an alliance, but we cannot handle more loss in our reputation.”  
“About that.” Lavellan stopped as they were just several steps away from the main entrance. “So our investigations say that someone ruined my reputation and I need to find out who?”  
“Yes. But remember, discreetly. We do not want to accuse anyone, and we do not want to cause trouble for the Empress.”  
“Of course not.” Lavellan gave her a look that left a message saying something along the lines of her intellect to not be underestimated. As she laid her fingers around the handle of the front door a moment later, she immediately stumbled inside because the very same door was opened by a servant from inside. Instantly, and with as much grace as possible, she straightened her posture as soon as she got a hold of herself. The disheartened look on Josephine’s face said it all.  
The inquisitor raised her hands and shoulders in a shrug towards her for a moment, only to then turn to the servant who looked at her in expectation.  
“I am here to--”  
“ _We_ are here for our rendezvous with Empress Celene: Inquisitor Lavellan and Ambassador Montilyet of the Inquisition. I have arranged our arrival time in advance, she should be informed.”  
“Of course. Please, come.” the female elven servant answered and guided them through the palace.

Lavellan’s eyes wandered over all the portraits of the family that hung on the walls while they were passing through several halls. Eventually they entered the backyard and as the servant opened the terrace doors, they were greeted by a gigantic garden complex. Fields of flowers, trees and bushes as far as the eye could see, and to one side even a hedge maze. The inquisitor stopped for a moment, finding it hard to take all of the scenery in, but followed the other two as she noticed them too far ahead of her.  
“A labyrinth?” she whispered questioningly towards Josephine who she was now walking next to again.  
“Yes, those are very popular here. I remember them from when I first came to Orlais... they have quite a few in the public gardens.” she whispered back in a cheerful manner, fond of her own cherished memories. “Especially for lovers they are a very popular activity.”  
“For lovers?” The look on Lavellan’s face was partly questioning and partly not believing what she heard from her ambassador. Or maybe it was her own mind making things up that she could not believe. Josephine smiled shyly at her and chuckled in such a feminine, light-hearted manner that it touched the inquisitor in an awkwardly intimate way and she seemed visibly struck.  
“We used to sneak into them even at night, though it was forbidden. Leliana first had this idea and persuaded me. You should have seen her! She was all into it for the thrill. Everything for the thrill!” The ambassador still whispered, but now with such excitement and happiness in her voice, that Lavellan could not help but imagine the two together.

The very same woman who was just chuckling in a girlish manner came back to her regular composed self as they arrived to the Empress’s orchard, where she was occupied with cherry picking. Only when the guests were announced by the servant, the Empress finally turned. She was dressed in a casual light-pink, almost white, long embroidered dress that was announcing the spring season by the look of it. Her beige-coloured, very widely brimmed hat offered her face and shoulders plenty of shadow from the sun. In the same shade as her dress, her eyes were behind a sheer veil of lace that also covered the upper part of her face but possessed no cut-outs. The laced mask that ended in a straight line at the bridge of her nose was thin, yet thick enough that one could see the expression in her eyes only when at close proximity.  
“Your Majesty, your visitors from the Inquisition have arrived.”  
The servant stepped aside and both of the Skyhold women straightened up at the introduction, bowing towards Celene in a formal manner.


	7. A simple request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Empress Celene’s wit and perceptive skills show that she is one of the most proficient players of the Game.

“Lady Montilyet! And the Lady Inquisitor. What a pleasure!”  
With a joyful expression the Empress approached them after having taken off her gloves, carrying them with her. A hand gesture pointing towards the basket of cherries on the floor gave the servant that had come with them the instruction to bring it inside. The Empress took the final steps towards her guests and now was covered by the shadow of the adjacent building, just like the two visitors from Skyhold.  
“Is it not wonderful the sun finally came out? And the smell of spring, it is irresistible.” She sighed in a self-sufficient manner. “Come, join me for tea! It is just the right hour - and I have had no one to have tea with the past days, can you imagine?” Her voice was raised, showing that she herself was more shocked about the fact than her visitors, who had no idea about her day-to-day life. With Celene walking towards the sunroom that was offering them enough shadow with a generous view of the garden scenery, the two other women followed without hesitation.

“It is very appreciated you could find time to talk to us, your Majesty.” the ambassador thanked.  
“Oh, no need for pleasantries, Ambassador; it is your time that is appreciated. Briala is off on some business outside of Val Royeaux and there is no one to keep me entertained. You would not believe how lonely it can get in this estate without a sensible soul to talk to!”  
As they sat at the down in the sunroom, the Empress took off her hat and for the first time, the inquisitor could see her hair fully uncovered. Though it was still set in a chignon, there were a few loosened strands framing her face now. Lavellan was struck by how pretty Celene looked, years younger with the thin layer of lace around her eyes, and her hair so natural. Now it struck her that they were perhaps just a few years apart in their age, if at all. The light-pink dress that flowed over her slender curves made her look like an innocent, yet incredibly enchanting maiden.  
“You are looking so surprised, Inquisitor.”  
“Oh-- please excuse my staring, your Majesty. I got carried away.” Lavellan immediately straightened up in her seat and buried away the recent thoughts.

Towards them came a servant bringing a service of porcelain cups and saucers for tea. On the cups a weak flowery print was present but the design was so abstract that it reminded one more of the fine strokes on Orlesian masks. The clear dark-coloured tea that filled the cups bid a bold contrast to the glazed white ceramic.  
The ambassador caught the moment to speak as the other two had fallen silent.  
“Your Majesty, could it be this is tea from Rivain? I tasted it at the banquet -- oh how I miss tea! The fragrance brings back the sweet memories of my time in Orlais.”  
“Oh, what a refined taste you have, Lady Montilyet! I should have invited you to tea much earlier. Yes, it is in fact from Rivain. The exquisite tea they have is my favourite - it cannot be compared to tea anywhere else in Thedas.”  
“How I wish we had proper storage and tea pots in Skyhold. The tea we have does not taste anything like Rivaini tea. None of that lovely aroma is left once it’s brewed. In fact it is almost tasteless and only reminds one of burnt grass.”  
Both women laughed at the comparison, each of them holding a hand up to cover their mouth. Lavellan wondered for a moment if she should leave them alone but ended up watching them playing out their rituals.  
“You must take some with you, Lady Montilyet. I will let a servant send you the address of our supplier here in Val Royeaux. They have wonderful tea pots.”  
“Much obliged, your Majesty.” Josephine thanked her with the hint of a bow. Meanwhile the inquisitor had not dared to take a sip from the tea because her conversation partners had not touched theirs. It made her wonder if there was some special rites before one was allowed to drink the tea. Or if the tea was there to drink at all in Orlais; maybe it was just on the table for the scent or to talk about it.

“Of course. It is such a pleasure to have good tea with good company. I take it you have no interest in tea, Inquisitor? But I also see you still favour common people clothes as well, contrary to what your reputation says about you these days.”  
“That reputation is what I meant to talk about.”  
The ambassador clenched her teeth at the unsolicited words and the mannerism the inquisitor was showing, forcing a smile through as the Empress was taken aback by the sudden cut to the chase.  
“Dearest Empress, you must excuse the Inquisitor, due to the recent news... she ist not quite in the right mind.”  
Not quite in the right mind is what Lavellan would have called it as well, but due to all kinds of reasons Josephine was unaware of. In any case, she was right.

Cream-filled cake slices on three separate plates were brought into the sunroom and set in front of the three women, all equally small, and equally holding the fruit that had been freshly picked. Only once the servant bowed and left the room again, the conversation was continued.  
“Oh, it is excused. It is not difficult to see that there is some young man clouding the Inquisitor’s mind.”  
Lavellan startled at the accusation, and in that very moment Celene laughed quietly behind her raised hand. “That reaction alone tells a thousand stories.” She sounded playful, but her words came to carry a weight the moment she read right out of the elven woman’s mind.  
“Look, Lady Montilyet. She is consumed by but one thought. _‘When will I see him again? When will he come back to caress my wounds with his lips?’_ ... It is written all over her eyes.”  
Josephine’s attention was turned to the Inquisitor once more, anticipating to find an answer to the accusation. The Empress turned her head slightly, watching her from the side in a coquettish manner to see whether she had hit the mark. Her confident smile was showing an exuberance of grandeur.

Perceptive eyes pierced through Lavellan’s heart with ease, like arrows hitting a target. It was similar to Cole’s skill, but differed in its lack of empathy and emotional reaction. She must have picked up this refined sense of perception long ago and trained herself in it as she raised to her current title. What effort must have been behind it - that it seemed so easy for her to see through people like through glass.

“There is no need to be ashamed, Inquisitor. Not in front of me. After all, do you think I only have those cherry trees to pick fruit?” A hand pointed leisurely to the trees they had met her at, but the inquisitor only looked down in shame. The confident smile turned into a playful one again, and through it the Empress was showing half of her true feelings while the other half was still blurred by the lace mask. It was hard to tell whether Celene was sympathizing or playing a mind game on her, but an indefinable connection had been established between them.  
“Now, let none of that ruin your spirits - Ambassador, Inquisitor, please help yourself. I have just hired a new pâtissier, you will be pleased. Not as pleased as during times you lie in the gardens with a young eloquent suitor, but pleased nevertheless.”  
As light and harmless as her words seemed, neither Josephine nor the inquisitor could laugh at the imagination. Well, that was one way to break the ice. The moment even Josephine was at a loss for words, Lavellan knew that they had reached rock bottom. At least for Orlesian standards.

It was the Empress that started to take the plate in her hand and eat, so that her guests did not feel shy about doing the same. Josephine’s eyes wandered to the Inquisitor before she also took her plate and started tasting the cake. It was like a sign between them that, possibly, it showed the best manner to follow suit.  
“They are still young.” The Empress suddenly commented with a hand politely in front of her mouth, “The cherries. Though the season comes for them early here, it has not quite arrived yet.”  
“Did you mean to comment on how I have not found the right man yet?”, Lavellan cut in without a second thought as fingers curled and nails digged into her palm, the metaphor being hard to miss.  
“Inquisitor!”  
Josephine’s quiet but sharp rebuke brought the elven woman back to fall silent, her plate still untouched.  
“No, no” The Empress laughed vividly at the accusation while her hand still covered the teeth showing through the joyful expression. The plate of half eaten cake was set back on the tea table before she continued. “I am not picking fun at you, Inquisitor. But sometimes, love is like that. It is rarely the right time, or it is in the wrong place - but it feels right and the appetite is there, isn’t it? It was often the same for me. Now I long for those days.”  
“I long for the days when my reputation was in order.” Lavellan commented in a neutral but demanding tone.  
“Ah, always the political talk”, the Empress waved her hand disapprovingly. “Here I hoped we can talk about the really interesting things in private for once. I rarely have such intelligent Ladies visiting me after all. It is always some grim-faced men with their grim political talk.”

One could hardly tell if the Empress was merely playing a role or she was serious. Maybe she was really lonely, maybe she longed for the private conversations that an Empress rarely had with anyone but her lover. A feeling of guilt hit Lavellan and she wondered if she had judged Celene too fast. A lovely, but sad sparkle appeared in her eyes as the two conflicted women looked at each other - and Lavellan felt that she had hurt her. But the Empress would never in her life openly admit it. Even if she was crying every night, plagued by loneliness, no one would know.  
“I have no idea who spread those rumours, Inquisitor. That is what you wanted to ask, yes?”  
“Your Majesty, you must excuse us for this accusation.” Josephine gave her words the necessary depth by pausing carefully. “It has become hard to trust even allies. We have been wondering whether Briala possibly had made political moves on her own.”  
“Oh yes” The Empress chuckled at once when the name of her past lover filled the sun-exposed room. “It would not be the first time for her to betray me. She always has always something of her own going on, I would not even dare to question her. But I would sense something if this had been the case. And here I do not sense anything.”  
“Are you sure about that feeling of yours, Empress?” The inquisitor tried to take note of every hint behind her veil, every change in expression. A trained bard like her was careful not to drop any hints, the unbroken gaze revealing nothing besides a strong will.  
“Are you sure about your feelings, Inquisitor?” The Orlesian noblewoman had turned it around, and her eyebrows were raised for a second before she smiled in a charming fashion as it was Lavellan who averted her eyes, the memory of her lover brought back.  
“Can we ever be so sure? The feelings come and go. After all, what do we have but that lingering aftertaste? It’s all we can use to judge. _Were they honest with me? Have I missed a sign in their gestures? What did it mean when he said ...?_ ”

“Enough” The inquisitor set her plate aside, and Josephine, who had just begun drinking tea, carefully took a last drink before setting the cup back on the saucer with the feeling that this was all she was getting today. No more wallowing in the luxury of Rivaini aroma and the memories of her time in Orlais.  
“You seem upset, Inquisitor.” Celene’s words were marked by a menacing tone, and Lavellan paused in her movements as she had gotten up and was about to bid her farewell respectfully. The blonde woman was sitting on the luxurious settee, looking up to her with a contradictory peaceful expression. “It does not seem like he told you it was his idea to start with. He wanted to see you in a dress. _A simple request_ , is what he called it. ‘Make Inquisitor Lavellan feel like the exceptional woman she is. She deserves it.’”  
The brunette froze in her place, her lips almost parted in astonishment, but she caught a hold of herself. She could not believe what she was hearing.  
“You are lying.”  
Her words were marked by a dark tone, carrying depth past the wall’s borders. Amused laughter filled the room, Celene’s weightless voice pushing the heavy feelings out of the chamber in the appropriate Orlesian manner. Josephine’s glance was on the Empress and Lavellan interchangeably, following every reaction.  
“How else would I know that he is your lover, my dear Inquisitor?”  
Lavellan shook her head at the accusation, at the question that was not asking her anything - that only wanted to twist her mind for the thrill of the game. Suggesting treason within the lines of her own companions was clearly overstepping boundaries. She remembered exactly that the mage was the first to ask her for a dance; the Empress had that and one hundred other clues in her favour. It was not difficult to guess their relation to each other. There was no way she could have found out only through a request he had made, if he had made it. 

“I am done.” Lavellan’s eyes came to rest on Josephine’s face, who in turn waited a moment for another sign, or another emotion that might follow. As the quiet gaze between them was not interrupted by anything, she got up from her seat, got tall and bowed to the Empress elegantly.  
“Thank you for receiving us so kindly, your Majesty. The cake and tea were utterly delightful. I will await your letter of recommendation for the supplier of tea in Skyhold. Now, you must excuse us as unfortunately need to be headed to set other matters in the name of the Inquisition.”  
Even with such an ungraceful act between two parties, Josephine could still twist it into a sophisticated resolution. It impressed Lavellan in a way, but the dishonesty gave her a deep sting in her heart as well. It was not even a beautiful lie; it was just sweeping the broken fragments of a vase. But little shards, invisible to the eye, remained. And those cut the deepest wounds.  
“It is excused, Ambassador. Farewell, and, visit me another time for tea if you have the chance? I will make sure the cherry trees are in full bloom by then.”  
The overly confident smile came back to Celene’s face, and Lavellan turned without a word to leave, her heart bleeding from the cut while her mind was tormented by the disturbingly polite act.

In her pace so fast that Josephine had to speed up to walk beside her, the two women were leaving again through the front gardens.  
“It is true what the Empress is saying? ... Is it... Solas?” Questions over questions were in the ambassador’s head and she could hardly find an answer on her own.  
“It seems I am an open book to everyone.” The inquisitor stopped and turned towards her advisor momentarily. “Oh, not you, Josephine? What a surprise! Here I thought I was the most popular joke in Orlais!”  
“Inquisitor Lavellan... please don’t take this the wrong way.” she pleaded sympathetically.  
“What way am I supposed to take it? Oh, thank you, dear Empress, for turning my whole life into a farce!” Annoyed, she started walking towards the outer fence of the estate, where Josephine slowly reached her again. The ambassador’s soft touch of a hand on the other woman’s arm offered consolation but was hardly acknowledged.  
“This is the Game, for better or worse. Rumours come and go. I doubt anyone really knows about your love for him. Even if they have hints - no real threat comes from it as there is no official statement. And the Inquisition will not give out any statement that could endanger your credibility. I assure you: you are not in danger. We must only look into this matter further, and investigate it discreetly.”  
Lavellan let out a deep sigh, a hint of relief with it. She could breathe more easily, but her mind was still troubled. Josephine hailed the carriage that had been arranged for them beforehand, and as the inquisitor opened the door, Leliana was sitting inside. Visibly struck in her movements for a moment, Lavellan shook it off and climbed in, followed by Josephine. She expected no less from her Spymaster after all. 

“How did it go?” The red-haired woman’s eyes were as unreadable as always, and her voice calm.  
“Not too well.” Josephine commented, and all of a sudden let out a frustrated, overly loud sigh. “I should have known the Empress would not say anything! I did not prepare well enough.”  
“No. I doubt there was a way to prepare suitably for this. They are miles ahead of us in their Game; we do not have the leverage to pose a threat to the Royal court.” Leliana smiled a little now, showing an uncharacteristic side of her, that seemed to not fit the severity of the situation.  
“No luck with Briala, either. Though she was rumoured to be leaving for the Ghislain alienage, we traced her agents and found them in the outskirts of Val Royeaux. She is either aware that the Inquisition is onto her or she has nothing to do with it.”  
“Val Royeaux?” Josephine noticed an inconsistency in differing stories. “According to the Empress she is on business outside of the capital.”  
“Well, then we are even further off than we thought. Either they have planned this, or they are not as intimate as we think. She might have never left the city.”  
“Or Briala came back prematurely from where she had been because she knew she was being followed.” Josephine reasoned tilting her head as she thought through all the possible explanations.  
“... in which case, they _have_ planned this together.” Leliana added, following back her original suspicion.  
To the inquisitor it was all the same. Emptiness filled her mind; the day had overworked her emotionally. Having nothing to add to their discussion, she looked out of the window as they kept talking. The sun was setting down, weakly shining through newly formed clouds at the horizon. There was always new clouds. Even when the sky had cleared up, they always crept back. And now it had become too late for them to go home without a rest.  
“Was the cake good, at least?” Leliana finally inquired, looking at both women. The inquisitor barely had the strength to turn her face, her eyes not being able to hide the sadness behind them as their gazes met.


	8. Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Lavellan and Josephine return to Skyhold.

At night Lavellan had a difficult time finding rest. The inn room felt like a prison cell in that she could barely sort through her thoughts, and through all the happenings of the day. The sleep was so short that it seemed to her like it had only lasted minutes - it felt to her like she had merely rested her eyes. Time was moving too fast. One moment she saw the morning sun rays already wanting to pass through the window’s blinds, the next she felt herself helplessly slipping into slumber’s warm embrace.

In a leisurely manner Lavellan was running over decorated glazed tiles in the empty halls of the palace. It did not even surprise her that she could not feel the heavy weight of the luxurious royal blue dress she was wearing. The sun was shining brightly on it through the windows and showed its beauty to its full extent. Oh what a pretty dress it was! How it swung with every movement in such a flowing and effortless manner, as though it had adapted the quality of water. And it wrinkled at her waist and spun when she looked behind her for the one following her. Laughing amusedly at the excitement of the play as she had stopped for a moment, she quickly looked for a new path to go.  
As she opened the doors to a room on her right, she found herself in a royal sleeping chamber. With caution, she closed the doors behind her and then turned to inspect the room itself. It had a tall ceiling, a canopy bed with its typical royal swirls and decorations on the frame, and a desk set in front of it. Only as she walked to the bed, she realized that there was a big closet set into the wall of the room itself. As she opened it, she was struck by how big it was - almost like a tiny windowless chamber of its own. She decided to hide in it, so that the seeker would not find her. The pair of doors was closed from inside and with a shutting sound the woman was safely hidden in the darkness.  
A deeply blissful laughter escaped her as she felt so much excitement and levity in her play. Holding her white gloved hands in front of her mouth, she tried to contain the laughing, but the sounds of happiness were bursting out of her nevertheless. The happiness in her soul had reached a peak that did not care about being found.  
Suddenly she could hear the rooms doors opened and gasped before she fell silent instantly, eyes widened. Slow steps were heard as they walked through the room, every step taken in deliberation. In the blink of an eye the doors opened slowly - and as if in slow motion, each ray of sun permeated through the window into the darkened closet one at a time, prisms of light dazzling her eyes momentarily as they revealed her shape.  
“There you are” Solas’ soft voice sounded light-heartedly as he stood in front of her. They both laughed at the realization that their game had ended so quickly.  
A gentle tremble ran through her body as she awoke, as if it had been a reaction to someone having touched her, but she had remained untouched. Though there was no one physically reaching out, she was feeling someone’s gaze on her clearly. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw Leliana standing fully dressed across the other side of the sun-filled room, waiting on her with arms crossed in front of her body.

Overly tired she and Josephine arrived in Skyhold the next night; Leliana had explained she would stay behind to follow clues in Orlais. With the carriage stopping at the stronghold’s gates, both women stepped out of the carriage. The inquisitor took the freedom to carry her and Josephine’s bag. After having dropped off her things right at her own door, she went up to the Ambassador’s room where she set off the other bag.  
“Thank you, Inquisitor. You know this was not necessary.”  
“Oh, no, no, let me at least once during our travel show my good Orlesian manners. Not that I leave you thinking of me as a savage.”  
“... You are angry, Inquisitor.” Josephine could hear the hint of irony in Lavellan’s voice.  
“Does it concern you?”  
“Yes. Well... you might think of me as simply an advisor. But I understand your pain. You feel ridiculed, and your feelings cast aside. It is why I long ago stopped openly investing in my feelings. Orlais does no good to someone who is too open and vulnerable. Everyone wears a dagger with them at all times, even to bed.”  
“I am surprised they don’t wake up with any cuts.” The inquisitor sat down in the chair at Josephine’s private desk, a restless sigh escaping her.  
“Oh, they do. You should see the ugly scars they wear - but they keep them well hidden behind the swirls and long dresses. Empress Celene perhaps has the deepest cut of them all. If you could see it on her forehead behind her mask, you would wonder how her skull has not yet cracked open.”  
“That ugly, yeah?”  
“Monstrous.” Josephine reassured with a heavy tone in their voice, before they both broke into laughter.

Relaxed, the ambassador sat on her bed and breathed in relief once their laughter had ceased naturally. With another sigh, the elven woman was lost in a familiar sentiment. Yes, now she started to feel at home again. But she was not quite there yet. Her thoughts were still out there in the fields. The thought of having to bring them back home all on her own was unbearable. Her chest was about to burst with the feelings it had held inside for too long. Though she could not tell what it was exactly, Josephine could feel a certain sentiment making its way between them.  
“There is nothing to fear, Inquisitor. Everything will clear up.”  
“You are the second person to say this to me.”  
“Who was the first?” the dark-skinned women asked with a curious, yet polite intention. They exchanged gazes but Lavellan eventually looked away.  
“... Because it is true. He is a wise man.” Josephine then started again, having guessed who it was they were talking about. “ But it must be noted that there is some deviation in stories, no matter how you look at it. Leliana had the same feelings about him last night when we talked.”  
Lavellan focused on her while she paused, closely listening to what she was about to say.  
“Are you sure the Empress was lying?”  
It was the last thing she wanted to hear. In resignation, Lavellan’s hands came to cover the lower half of her face, fingers resting just above the lips while she looked down thoughtfully for several moments, as if quietly pondering a chess move.  
“I have no reason to believe otherwise.”  
“Do you not think it could be Solas who--”  
“I know. I have considered it.” the inquisitor answered in a sharp tone with her hands lowered, not wanting the thought to manifest in her mind again. “If I think about this any more, the Empress will have what she wanted: an inquisitor with a broken will.”  
“You are right of course.”, the ambassador answered empathetically, letting go of further pursuing questions and pleads. It still turned out surprisingly difficult for her to wrap up her intentions in a non-intrusive manner. “I only want to... well. I only want you to have peace of mind.”  
“I have long lost that.”  
The elven woman’s hands sank into her lap, she had given up all pondering. As she stood and walked towards the window, she saw Skyhold’s dark appearance, the inner courtyard now featuring even less brightly glowing windows than when they had just arrived. Everyone was going to sleep.  
“I have taken enough of your time, Ambassador. I had better let you rest.” she said when turning towards her. Josephine was sitting on her bed with a loss for parting words, but then recalled how they had fallen into the topic.  
“Even if I do not understand his actions, Inquisitor, he is right in that one aspect: You will find peace. You will get there.”  
“I hope you are right. But that doesn’t help me now.” Lavellan’s calm yet intense words echoed in the room and the ambassador was left staring at her as she crossed the room to set a hand on the door handle. “Good night, Lady Montilyet.”

Parting from her advisor, she followed the steps downstairs and stood back in the dark grand hall, alone. As she turned towards the mage’s study and stood in front of his door, her hand raised to knock -- but then it lowered again without having touched the wood. Her eyes showed a mix of sadness and fatigue. Perhaps he was asleep. Even if he was not, in her current state it was not the best idea to face him. Hesitating for several moments, she at last turned away from his door and walked to her quarters.

“Inquisitor”  
Lavellan had not yet escaped to her room and turned around as she heard the familiar voice. It was Solas. Her heart leaped. The moment he had closed the door to his study and came up walking to her, she fell into his arms without thinking twice. He chuckled, taking her into his embrace protectively. Nothing in the world felt better than to be in his arms at this moment. His embrace felt like the softest bed of clouds and the warmth gave a sense of belonging she had never known.  
“Where have you been?” he asked quietly, even though they were alone in the hall at this hour. “And why did you not come to me?”  
Guilty eyes came to look at him, yet she felt unable to answer his questions.  
“I missed you so much.” she whispered in desperation, and it was the only thing that she could deeply feel in herself. She had missed it all: his scent, his strength, all the safety he gave her. The feeling of being back in his arms released that ache, but in that release also made her relive it. Being separated had hurt too much. The thoughts had hurt too much. His hand caressed the back of her head as he was smiling at her. Yet as he felt the desperation in her, he was also concerned.  
“You look tired. Could you not sleep?” Sympathetic eyes showed that he cared deeply about the woman in his arms. She answered by shaking her head.  
“I thought that I could say something I might regret, so I did not come to see you tonight. But now that I have seen you, I cannot part.”  
“My poor nightingale.” he chuckled and let his hand guide the head it had just been stroking towards his chest to give her the needed comfort. She visibly enjoyed it, rubbing her face against his warm body as it settled into the crook of his neck. At this very place, she felt at home. And she was so happy to be home.  
“I am so weak, Solas. How can you stand me like this? Do you still love me when I am this weak?” Slowly she leaned back to look at him again, wanting to see the truth in his eyes.  
“I greatly admire every side that I get to see of you. Your weakness is a raw and pure part of you - I desire it as I desire all of your soul.”  
As she heard his words spoken and did not feel any doubts in them or his eyes, she leaned in to kiss him hastily. He gave in to her, but broke the kiss for a moment without letting go of their embrace. The cause for his hesitation led back to her own words: her fatigue had made her unsure about her own actions and words.  
“Are you certain about this?”  
“I have never been more certain in my life.” Her answer was followed by her lips searching for his time and again. Lovingly, yet with assertiveness, he pushed her against the wall in the dark hall. Their lips met with longing, and desperation; hands searching for intimacy, comfort, a place to rest. But once more the touch was broken off, this time by her, who stared at him with eyes though weary, awake and aware of the truth.

“There is one more thing I need to ask you.” The change of heart came unexpected. He needed a moment to gather himself, but then looked into her eyes calmly and listened to attentively as she raised her question. “Was it you who requested the Empress to lend me one of her dresses?”  
A long quiet moment passed in which she was hanging onto the sealed pair of lips for an answer. He cleared his throat before speaking up, a hint of the romantic mood vanishing and making space for an honest confrontation.  
“No, I did not. But I need to admit I overheard a conversation between her and one of her valued guests about our attires. I stepped in and mentioned that you are an exceptional woman - who deserved a much more prestigious attire than all of us.”  
No clear expression, no words came from her when she worked through this moment. There was some truth in what Celene had said. But what parts of it were true?

“You don’t believe me.” His hand rose to caress her cheek when he could read the expression on her face. Her gaze drifted to the side, thoughts still clouded.  
“Why would you mention their motives and not tell me what you said to Celene? We've discussed it several times...”  
“I suspected you would think I was the one who asked for it from the start. Which you do now. This is my luck.” he answered with a chuckle. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand for comfort nevertheless. She did not want to think this through. Not now.  
“You have talked to Celene I see. This must have tired you, Inquisitor. The royal court is not easy to deal with in political matters - you might have underestimated their impact. You must find some rest from all of this.”  
“Will you-- Will you come with me?” Her gaze was hanging onto him again, onto every word she hoped to hear. She felt like she should have some pride, and work through her thoughts alone - but she could not. She was weak and he was her strength.  
“I-- It is not a good idea. I do not want to influence you in the wrong ways.” he answered hesitatingly.  
“You... are probably right.” Her eyes lowered in disappointment. She could not even tell if she was disappointed in herself or in him. An edge of despair crept back into her voice. “And yet I want you around me. I just want to hear you breathing next to me. It would give me so much peace.”  
The mage sighed audibly, the thumb of the hand set on her face gently stroking her cheek as heavy eyes met her longing. It was hard to let her go, but it was equally hard to grant her the wish.  
“Perhaps I can sit at your side until you fall asleep.”


	9. The sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan comes back to a familiar place, but things have been altered.

When Lavellan came to consciousness, she saw herself in the sunroom that she had been drinking tea in before. Besides her no one was present, but there was numerous assorted cakes on the table, as well as a whole table service. As she looked down on herself, she realized she was wearing a long light-pink embroidered dress. Fingers reached slowly to touch her own face, making her realize she was also wearing a thin veil that was covering her eyes, and when her hands cautiously ran up to her hair, she felt it was styled into a loose chignon, several strands gently framing her face. While she was trying to find out what she was doing here, she turned around to face the glass door the moment Solas entered through it.

“There you are.” As she heard his voice, a distant memory of hearing the very same words once before slipped into her mind. He immediately smiled and his hands found her arms, holding them as he was looking at her shape closely. “My gorgeous Ellana.”  
It all came so unexpected to her that she shifted back from him slightly. What was Solas even wearing? It looked like traditional Dalish clothes, but those they used special occasions: a beige shirt with a decorated collar and long pants in dark green, together with a festive golden belt.  
As his hands ran up her arms and he kissed her at the very first sight they had of each other, her eyes widened. Since when did he kiss her like this?  
Emotionless she stared at him as he let go of her lips.  
“Solas?” she asked in disbelief.  
“Yes?” he laughed quietly but then found himself in doubt at her behaviour, looking worried. “Is something bothering you? I found it strange that you locked yourself here, so I came to look after all. I am sorry if you needed a moment for yourself but I was concerned.”  
The elven woman was still taken aback, and trying to make sense of the information she was gathering.  
“Why would I need a moment?”  
“... are you not feeling well? You don’t seem in the right spirits at all suddenly.”  
She was still trying to understand what was going on, frowning sceptically.  
“Right spirits? I am well, I just cannot grasp what exactly is happening.”  
Solas sighed but visibly calmed after a moment, comforting her with a hand running up and down her arm in gentle movements.  
“It’s a big day, I understand. But let’s go out to our guests again if you feel well enough. I would stay here with you all day and all night, but they are expecting us.”

He took her hand and let her out of the room carefully. Only as the doors opened and the sun was shining into the inquisitor’s eyes overly bright, towards which she raised a hand to shield them, she could after a while make out shapes and sceneries again. They were in a garden. There were chairs, tables, a whole banquet in a party setting all in white. A flower-decorated wooden arch made itself finally visible in front of Lavellan’s eyes - and in front of it all the guest chairs, with all the inquisitor’s companions and advisors occupying them or standing around them, having friendly chats with each other. Lavellan’s heart stood still as she realized what was going on. It was a wedding arch, and they were about to attend a ceremony.  
“No... this is... is this my wedding?” She stopped in her movements as they had only made it halfway back to the guests.  
“Our wedding, yes.” Solas laughed. “Why is it suddenly only yours? You don’t want me anymore?”  
Her eyes were filled with horror at the realization. The betrothed turned again to face her, both hands holding onto hers now for support as he realized she was not present.  
“What is it?” His voice was overly concerned while he still offered patience and acceptance for her feelings.  
“This... can’t be real.”  
“Why can it not be?”  
“... It can’t be.”  
She shook her head but the mage smiled at her gently, seeming to understand the bewilderment due to excitement, so that his calming hand found its way to settle on the side of her face.  
“I have waited so long for this moment. Finally I can make you mine. Finally I can show you all of what I feel. And tonight I can give you what you have asked for.”  
Even if it was not real, the moment the elven woman understood what he was talking about, she blushed.  
“You-- you held it back for the wedding night?” she asked, unsure if she understood it correctly.  
“You deserve only the best. I want it to be perfect.” he answered while his fingers brushed one of the strands that framed her face to the side.  
“Please, Ellana. Will you marry me? You know I said I do not need any guests, it was you who said they would be offended if we skip the ceremony or do not invite them.” he reminded her, speaking cautiously.  
“No. No... this isn’t real.” she closed her eyes for a moment but as she opened them a second later, Solas was still looking at her, becoming visibly confused and sad.  
“Do you not want to marry me?”  
“No - _I do_. But not like this. This is not real.”  
With force, she freed herself from his grip and looked around. Behind him the wedding set-up was visible and as she turned her back to it, she saw the way back to the sunroom. Another path between those two had revealed itself to her and that was the one to the hedge maze in the distance of the garden. Without giving it a second thought, she started walking towards it, almost stumbled as she walked fast. Her hands came to hold up her dress so that she could walk faster towards her aim.

“Ellana. Not every place in the Fade is safe. There is malevolent spirits as well.” She paused for a second and looked back at him curiously. His steps followed up again, closing the distance between them.  
“I have never been to a labyrinth. I want to go.” she insisted and started walking again. She knew she had to go, something inaudible was calling out for her, some gut feeling was pulling her towards it. Above them a bird was flying towards the maze, making her gaze follow it passing the tall hedges on its way to the horizon.  
“Ellana, I beg you.” He walked after her once more, grabbed her wrist. “If you go there, I cannot protect you. It is out of my reach.”  
The confused look on her face lasted for a few moments, but then she bid him good-bye with a struggle in her voice.  
“I _have_ to go.” With her final statement she freed herself from his grasp and ran towards the maze. He was left standing alone.

As she reached the maze, she found the entrance right before her and went inside looking for the path that would lead to the inner center. Soon her view was blocked by the hedges. She turned several times, and got it wrong several times, walked back, walked the same path twice or thrice but she kept walking. She needed to focus, and remember the paths that lead to a dead end so that she could then find the right way. All that was important was that she kept going. Dripping water hollowed out stone through persistence after all. Suddenly she realized that the sky had darkened above her head and she looked up. The sky that had been clear was now turning into dark grey clouds that darkened further with every minute. She could hear thunder crawling up and resonating inside of her. Soon it would start to rain.  
Lavellan tried to recall the wrong turns she had made to find the right path but kept getting lost, retracing her steps back to the path she started with, over and over. Eventually she realized she was on a path she had not walked before. Or at least it felt like that. As she walked the final steps towards the entrance to the middle of the hedge, she noticed her dress getting stuck and torn by the hedge twigs on several instances but she kept walking, even when it was tugging on her and holding her back. With the dress fabric’s torn in several parts of the skirt, she finally reached the middle of the labyrinth. At the end of it was only a closed hatch.  
She kneeled down, soiling her dress in the process but opening the hatch door without much trouble. As she walked down the dark steps, she realized that she had not gotten caught by the rain after all. But the hatch door had closed behind her quietly and left her slowly stepping into the darkness. An uneasy feeling was emerging within her as she had no idea where she was going. With a hand she traced the wall at the side so as not to stumble.  
At the final step she saw a veilfire burning at the end of the circular big room the stairs let into. Once she had reached the last step, Lavellan noticed she had been here before. It was the cave Solas had shown her, the one with the markings. But as she approached the walls, the markings were only left on one side, on the other side they had completely vanished. Nothing was left of them, almost as if they had never been there from the start. She looked around in the cave, trying to see if she could find any other clues.  
Beneath the veilfire she could see something sparkling in the green light - and approaching it slowly, she realized it was the Orlesian mask she was wearing at the Winter Palace. She kneeled down again to pick it up and look at it. Nothing had changed about it, it was the very same mask. But she saw no point in using it; she was wearing the lace mask now - and she was completely alone in the cave.  
From one moment to the next, she realized that she was hearing a sound like the waves of an ocean. Was there a nearby beach? Now that she gathered her thoughts and memories, she remembered hearing waves in the distance at the wedding, but so far away that she had not been able to see any ocean. Yet now the waving sound became louder with every moment that passed. As the inquisitor looked towards the original entrance, she could see a flash of waves entering the cave - she panicked, but it was much too late. The cave was filled with the push of a gigantic wave in an instant and drowned her before she could make a sound.

In shock the inquisitor awoke alone in her bed in Skyhold. It took her a moment to realize she was back to the real world. Slowly sitting up, she breathed heavily at what had just happened to her. She knew it was not real, but the aftermath, the horror of it all felt real.  
An owl outside of her window sang its song, so that her gaze was drawn to it. It was still dark. How long had she slept? How many hours had passed? And when had he left?  
As she thought about it, she realized that she could remember the dream almost fully. ... Had Solas lied to her? Was he actually controlling her dreams? It was the only dream she could fully remember since they had started dreaming together, and it was the only dream in which she had broken away from him. How many nights had they spend dreaming together? It was hard to tell with the perception of time lost.

In her heart she felt a sudden strong sting as she saw the wedding set-up before her eyes. She remembered the way Solas had approached her, the way he had intimately called her name. Her knees pulled in, she sat up in the bed and her arms rested on them as she covered her face. That hurt. It hurt so much she did want to burn it out of her memory.  
Was that why she was always made to forget, be it by her conscience or by her companion? Because it hurt too much.  
Over and over she felt Solas taking her hands, holding her arms and kissing her. That look on his face, how he was almost offended as she had said “my wedding”. The way he had asked her if she still wanted to marry him.  
It was too much. Her heart ached so strongly, her soul wrung, and tears started flowing. First slowly but the more memories of the dream fully and in colour unfolded inside of her, the harder she cried. Her hands rushing to her face to cover it could not stop the flow.

Every time the crying receded, and she thought she could gather herself, a new memory brought a new wave of crying that knocked her down harder than before. His hands, his smile... how he implied with those sincere eyes that he had waited to sleep with her because he wanted it to be perfect. And here she thought that he had merely tortured her... which he had done after all. But oh, why did it hurt like this.  
As she could not take it any longer and her crying had at last become less violent, she pulled her moss-green silken dressing-gown over and after binding it in the front left her room to go downstairs.  
From the position of the moon she could see from her room, it was past midnight and most people were asleep so that she could freely sneak into the stronghold’s garden. She sat on one of the benches at the wall and watched the moon shine into the courtyard. Indeed she was alone.

Lavellan started to sob quietly, having no one around to hide it from so that she also felt at least a little at ease. Her sorrow was giving her the worst heartache - but at least she could feel it. At least she had all these emotions to let out. Still, it hurt like the worst wound on earth and she wondered if she would ever stop crying. Still, with every memory that came up, she realized what she secretly longed for - and it tore her heart apart.  
For a moment she even thought about turning to confide in someone with her pain. Maybe Josephine, who seemed the most likely to understand after what had happened during the visit with the Empress. But she was sleeping, and it would be rude to wake her up.  
As the thought of the Empress came up, she wondered if that was the same kind of sadness that she experienced. Or was this loneliness? She saw Celene’s eyes in her memory clearly now, those sad eyes she had seen on her just for a moment. She would have understood. She must have understood all of Lavellan’s pain - she must have had every painful experience she had. The connection was there, and the elven woman only realize it to its full extent now. A hand crept to her face, lingering against her mouth at the pain of the memories. And again she sobbed, though she was not sure if she was crying about Celene’s pain or her own. Maybe it was about all the sadness of life, all the broken promises, all loneliness. All living beings longing to be together but withering away alone eventually.

The sound of a door opening next to her made the inquisitor freeze in her movements and emotions. As she stared towards it and saw it open, she noticed a man appearing - out of all men in Skyhold, of course it was him.  
“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly, not welcoming the company.  
“I could ask you the same.” Solas whispered back and closed the door behind him. As he walked up to her, she shifted her hand to her forehead as if her head was hurting, but in fact only intended to loosely cover her face from the side so as to shield it from him.  
“Don’t look at me.” Of course Solas knew. He had been in her dream after all. He probably knew when she woke up. Maybe not that she cried... or maybe that too.  
“Why? The moonlight brings out your features very well. I rarely get to see you this way.” he explained while sitting down next to her where she now heard his quiet voice more clearly. Her hand was still propped up in a way that he was unable to fully see her. Even if he could have, it would have been hard to make out details. Only the lower parts of her face, with lips protruding in the light of the moon, were clearly visible.  
“As I said once before, you can choose not to look at me, but I still know.”  
“Why do you torture me?” She finally let her hand sink from her face and looked at him in annoyance. At least the crying had stopped.  
“How am I torturing you?”  
“Why did you give me that dream?”  
“Inqui--”  
“Don’t you dare _inquisitor_ me” she threatened.  
“Ellana. It was you. You induced that dream.” he explained calmly.  
“And what reason did you have to go along with it?”  
“I wanted to see you happy.” he explained and his hand was looking for hers on the bench, but she quickly pulled it away the moment he had almost reached it.  
“Why were you crying?” the mage finally asked, looking at her with a sad expression himself.  
As the answer formed in her head, tears started filling her eyes again, blurring her vision of the garden until at last they broke all bridges. The thought alone was too painful.  
“Because you will never marry me.”


	10. Earthbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas reveals his ideas of life and love to the inquisitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _They asked “do you love her to death?”  
>  I said “speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.” _
> 
> \-- Mahmoud Darwish

“... I want to.”  
“But you will not. I can feel it in my bones.”  
“I want to be with you, Ellana.”  
His arms came to wrap around her but she resisted, pushed him away time and again.  
“You’re lying to me! I don’t believe you. If you wanted to marry me, you would do it! You would not make me dream about it instead!”  
Once more his hands tried to calm her movements, finally welcoming her in an embrace as her tears broke all limits.  
“You are my bride, _Vhenan_. I want to spend the rest of my life with you in the Fade.”  
Her tears were flowing like rivers. How could he be so cruel?  
“Why can we not be together in the real world? Why must you do this to me?”  
“The Fade is real. Every spirit and every demon you encounter is real. Your eyes not being able see them does not make them less real.” He stroked over her hair carefully as she was leaning in his arms, listening to his heartbeat with her face against his chest. She had calmed, but her heart was torn.

“Of all souls I have ever seen, yours is the most beautiful and unique. Your light shines the brightest. I would recognize you anywhere simply by the light you radiate.”  
“Why, Solas?” Her voice was weak, almost vanishing.  
“I am sorry, Ellana. I have given you a terrible fate. I could not bear to lose you. I tried to resist you, I tried to protect you. But I have only made things worse. I thought you could agree to live in the Fade with me. I thought that then I could take you there, every night. And that we could live there until the end, and spend every day as we pleased.”  
As she listened to his confession, her wide-opened eyes again filled with tears that they could not contain. In their search for something to hold onto, her hands on his chest grasped his shirt without restraint, wrinkling it at the touch.  
“We are all but lost souls, Ellana. You said you are already lost in the Fade when you touch me. But you were wrong; you _found_ me. You loved me. I loved your soul. I love you so much -- too much. I cannot say in words how much you mean to me.”  
He kissed the crown of her head, hand stroking from the head towards the nape of her neck as he held her.

As all the feelings gathered in her, she cried uncontrollably. What was time? What was love - what was marriage but a vow for one’s lifetime? What meaning did it have after the mortal life? Nothing on this earth was forever - only spirits lasted, only what was left after death lasted, if the mage’s words were true. And he had wanted to spend all his time - all that was now and all that lasted - with her.  
“Don’t make me forget my dreams anymore.” she pleaded, barely able to speak through the sobs.  
“Even if they hurt?”  
“I want to hurt; I want to hurt for you. I want to be with you.” she spoke deliberately through her own crying, moving the side of her face against his chest in her pain. She just wanted to be close, and to feel his touch. “I can feel it. You hurt me, and you torture me. Your touch is like one thousand knives because I know a world where I am without you.”  
“I will not allow for such a world to exist.”  
“You could brush a hand through my hair and make me forget every dream I had with you. I would not even know the pain. I would know neither pleasure, nor pain.”  
“I will not, if you do not want it.”  
“It hurts. It hurts!” she cried in distress. Tears were dripping down her chin as her arms around him searched for his comfort. He continued to run a hand over her head gently, and held her tight, giving the comforting touch as she needed it.  
“Hold me, Solas. Don’t let me go.”  
“I will never let you go. If that is what you wish, I will stay with you until the end of time.”  
“I can’t do it without you, Solas. I can’t fight on my own.” She broke harder into tears, hands running up his spine, sinking into the fabric restlessly, always searching for him to hold onto.  
“You will not be alone. Do not be afraid... I will be at your side.”  
“I can’t... I can’t do it...“ As she continued crying violently, he soothed her cautiously by both of his arms wrapping around her shoulders, his embrace covering her from any harm, and almost all of the light that was shining on her as the full moon lingered into the dark night.

  


* * *

  


The battle with Corypheus had come at last. The fight was over, the orb shattered.  
As Inquisitor Lavellan had returned to Skyhold, she noticed she had returned alone. Her intuition had already given her a fair warning that the time had come, but she deliberately chose not to think about it. First and foremost, she had her duties to take care of. In the end, that feeling turned out to be true. Leliana told her that Solas was nowhere to be found, which gave Lavellan an abrupt pause in her breathing.  
“I am sorry. I know you two were close.”  
The pain ran through her body, reached every limb, every tip of her fingers, every lash that swung as she closed her eyes. A frown formed, the sensation too intense, before she opened her eyes again as the other woman addressed her.  
“There is something else I would like to discuss with you.”  
As they had gone up to the inquisitor’s room, Leliana gave her a moment before she spoke. Lavellan stood at the window, waiting for what she had to say.  
“It seems like my spies found the source of the rumours. An unknown infiltrator seemed to have spread them, and then through the castle servants it reached the rest of Orlais. It was not Celene and not Briala. But they surely might have pushed the info further once it was already known and our of their hands. In any case, due to these events our ties to Orlais will be strained. But we can rekindle the connection with your clan, and the rest of all elves outside of Orlais. But -- it could be entirely possible that severe conflicts will now arise. And I do not think we will be able to settle them so easily once they do. However, we should be safe for the time being.”  
Acknowledging the Inquisition’s current situation, Lavellan nodded at her words. The cut of the ties to her clan did not hurt as much as she thought it should have. In the recent years she had not been close to them to start with. Ever since she had made Skyhold a home, she had forgotten the other home she had, and what it felt like. What hypocrisy she had lived in. Maybe it was all just an image she was holding up after all -- and the Game had only shown her true colours.

“Alright. We will... get to this when it comes.”  
“Inquisitor.” Leliana did not move in her position as she addressed Lavellan with a raised voice. There was something else. The inquisitor’s eyes went back to look at her questioningly. Only as she had her full attention, Leliana spoke and from her side pocket pulled out an envelope.  
“This was given to Josephine, and it is addressed to you.”  
Lavellan’s hands were unstable as she approached the Chantry sister and took the letter, trying hard to hold back the tremble, the desperation, the hope that clung to her.  
“She entrusted it to me so I would safely bring it to you.” Leliana’s hands let go of the letter while her eyes, unaffected by emotion, followed the other woman.  
“... Thank you.”  
Leliana nodded reassuringly and with it came a hinted bow, after which she left the inquisitor to her own thoughts, exiting the room to go back to the festive activities in the main hall.

With the letter in her hands, the inquisitor sat down at her desk. “Inquisitor Lavellan” was all that was written on the front of the envelope, and it was not signed on the backside. Carefully, she opened it with the dagger on her and pulled out the pages left for her.

> _Dearest Ellana, my sweetest sin,_
> 
> _Never have I thought I would be able to fall in love. Of all odds faced, I turned out the be the lucky man who fell in love with the most gorgeous woman in this world, who, in all my luck, also fell in love with me.  
>  The moment I met you, it already hurt my hands to lose touch of you. And I could sense the same pain deep within you. I knew I could never bear the thought of letting you go. I never could. Every time I looked at you, my heart broke into pieces at the idea of it. You accused me of not looking at you the same way anymore. I was weak. It simply hurt too much to see your beauty, and your light was too bright. It burned me, it scarred me. Yet I cannot live without it, and now I carry this wound with me affectionately wherever I go._
> 
> _You know very well that there is great minds like there is great spirits, and great demons. Some of us have a great burden to carry, a great deed to take care of.  
>  Each of us is born into this world with a purpose, and we are destined to fulfill our duty. No matter what path we chose, we will always be forced back to the way that leads us to finish our work. When we try to fight our purpose, it will only come to haunt us on another route.  
>  Some circumstances play to us while others need to be turned in our favour. I never intended to harm you. Some of my aims might have collided with your minor plans - but I have always taken care to assure your safety._
> 
> _What saddens me the most is that you and I, we both have a path that is laid out to be walked alone. I saw it in your humble and innocent eyes - that you want to believe that you can live a normal life, with a lover at your side. But you cannot, and you will not. Your nature will not allow it.  
>  Not all great deeds can be achieved while cooking meals for your family, or toiling in the fields. It is meaningful work, but its effects do not surpass time. Some lives are not meant to be ordinary, some are meant to make enormous sacrifices.  
>  Most people settle for less. They will settle for momentary happiness. Not you though. And not me._
> 
> _We are one and the same, we are together, and yet we are apart. I have come to accept this but it will tear on my heart every day that I think about you.  
>  Yet I am so fortunate that the pain anchored in my soul reminds me of you, so that I can linger in it and live with you for all eternity._
> 
> _Arlath ma, Vhenan. You will find me._
> 
> _Yours in the Fade, on earth and everywhere inbetween,_  
>  _Solas_

Her own ghosting fingers ran up to her lips as she read the last lines. She could still feel the tingle, that memory of the other pair of lips on them.  
And in the night sky the stars sparkled with an enigmatic energy, as if they had been touched by the same hands and kissed by the same mouth.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really hard to part with this, though the whole thing was written rather quickly. I am still torn about some details in the story, but I hope the reveals and symbolism worked the way they should (subtle but not too hidden). I would love to hear feedback from everyone who felt there was something, or that something was missing.
> 
> ~~I have two more "deleted scenes" ( **very explicit** ), I might or might not share them as a part of this series sometime.~~


End file.
